


The Demolition Lovers

by Fueled_by_Revenge



Series: Haunted Grounds [2]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Mindless Self Indulgence, Motion City Soundtrack - Fandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Break Up, Drinking to Cope, Getting Back Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Post-Break Up, Punishments, Rimjobs, Spanking, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Underage Drinking, bare handed spanking, ddlb, hangovers, paddle spanking, sex while drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2018-12-21 00:59:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 68,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11933016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fueled_by_Revenge/pseuds/Fueled_by_Revenge
Summary: Gerard had everything he had worked so hard for from a job as a writer on a show for Cartoon Network to a nice new apartment in Hoboken. When he gets a month off of work, he decides to go back to his old town to spend his birthday with his brother but he has to come to face to face with the best thing he's left behind: Patrick Stump.Part two of the Haunted Grounds series.





	1. After all the things we put each other through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title from Demolition Lovers by My Chemical Romance

The holidays came and went too quickly for anyone to spend brooding over past lovers. Especially in Gerard's case as the only time he had spent completely sober was when he spent Christmas with his parents and brother. As far as his parents knew, he hadn't dated anyone in a while; as so long as Mikey kept his mouth shut, they weren't going to find out.

The only real conversation he had with Mikey about his ex-boyfriend was during a smoke break he took shortly after his parents announced that they were back together. "Never thought it would happen," the younger brother said as he left the house.

"Yeah, I mean it's great though," Gerard said with a breath of smoke. "Old loves finding out that they worked with one another all along."

"Yeah, now if only you could figure that out," Mikey snapped. He took a few more steps until he was standing behind his brother, but he didn't need to sit next to the older man to know how pissed he looked.

"Don't even," Gerard huffed back. He didn't want to hear a lecture, from his brother of all people.

"You screwed up, big time." Mikey finally took a seat on what was remaining of the steps that led to the backyard.

"I know, but I can't exactly take it back," Gerard grumbled. He had said it time and time again between when he left in October to that weekend with his parents: he didn't want to ruin Patrick's life. He didn't want the boy to put his life on hold for some boyfriend, especially one who had their life coming into place.

"You still have time, you can call him," Mikey offered up the idea.

"No, I kind of burned that bridge as I was crossing it," he admitted while snuffing out his cigarette into the ashtray he that he found with the patio furniture and brought to sit next to him.

"I get to see him a lot," the younger brother said while looking off into the distance. "I'm in the same building as Pete and Andy, so I got to see them when they hang out. Plus my roomie is friends with Pete and now I'm kinda friends with Pete so we all hang out a lot now."

"Is he doing okay?" He still couldn't say his ex's name, like it was poison on lips that couldn't get any power if he didn't say it.

"He seemed out of it at first, but now he's hanging out and seems like he mellowed out," Mikey said to the best of his ability. "No one really tells me anything because they think I'll go and tell you."

"Isn't that what you're doing?" Gerard asked while he fiddled in his pockets for a mint or gum or at the very least some hand sanitizer.

"I guess," Mikey said and shrugged. "I think it was really bad before I got there. Like he was drinking heavily or taking something, but no one talks about it. No one talks about you either. They treat you like a horror movie monster like if they don't talk about you then you don't exist and they can all just keep pretending that they have normal lives."

"Nice analogy; I'm a vampire," he smirked at the thought.

"You keep looking like you're dead and someone will think you're a vampire," Mikey commented and they both laughed at the thought. "I can leave him notes or something. Be all Phantom of the Opera about it. You can text me notes to leave at his dorm, or I could leave stuff in his classes for you. Make him realize how sorry you are and then maybe he'd talk to you again."

"I don't think so Mikey," Gerard sighed as he gave it some thought. "I think I really screwed up here."

"Yeah, but..." the younger brother trailed off before he caught on that maybe Gerard was right. Maybe it was over. He patted his brother's back a few times before resting his hand on Gerard's shoulder and tried to reassure him. "Maybe one day?"

"Yeah, maybe one day."

~~~~~

All the staff got a mini-break for the holidays regardless of which show they worked for, but the team that was working on the Breakfast Monkey was going to be working full time until they got a long break in April. He had to double take for a second since he thought he was just hearing things but no, the whole team was getting a three-week break starting on the first weekend in April, which meant he got to have his birthday off from work.

"Is this typical?" Gerard asked Joe, the other artist that got him into this whole gig in the first place, while they were walking back to their workstations.

"Well kind of," the taller man shook his head a little while he spoke. "We didn't get signed on for a full season. That break is to see if kids like us, so they can start watching the show. And if the ratings and numbers are good, the board of producers will keep us."

"Oh shit," he grumbled. He thought this was surefire deal that he had a job that could keep him in his new apartment for at least the year he had signed on for. "What do we do if kids don't like it?"

"We'll figure that out when we get there," Joe answered in a matter-a-factly tone. "Just try to do some small gigs, for now, try to stash some money away. Like do an art show at a gallery and sell some pieces, or do some logo work for a small startup. Hell, I've read your writing, you could do that on the side. Don't worry about it for right now, you've got a job until April so just concentrate on that."

"Got it," Gerard replied and watched Joe walk away to his own station. He took a moment to appreciate the atmosphere of the studio, from the people walking around him like busy worker bees to the art plastered on the walls from animators and storyboard artists that came before him. A moment had passed already, and he had the vague idea that maybe someday, some kid will be standing right where he is now thinking the same thing while staring at one his drawings. Gerard could pray for this show to break out and be a big hit all he wanted to, but it was going to take a lot of hard work from his side to keep what he had worked for so far.

He took a deep breath while mentally psyching himself up.

"I got it."

~~~~~

He didn't like talking about it too much, but Gerard didn't have a lot of contact with people outside of work.

He had his old friends from while he was in art school. But they were all married or parents or too busy with jobs to hang out with him on his days off.

He had a group of people he could vaguely call friends that were composed of a band he would watch play in bars back when he was in art school because the lead singer would offer him coke so the two could fuck before or after shows. Other than getting high with the lot of them, he didn't see them too often since he came back.

He also had a little friend with benefits thing he had going on that he wasn't telling anyone about. 'Friends' might have been stretching the truth a little, and 'benefits' was stretching the truth even thinner when he just had weird kinky sex with this kid and rarely got anything else out of the deal, but, since he barely knew anything about this kid, Gerard didn't want to spend his birthday with him either but would as a last resort.

His parents didn't seem like a good choice, especially over such a long period of time. But his family was a good option. Mikey would be fun to hang out with, and since his brother had a dorm, he had a place to crash if needed. He could see Ray and Frank again, and it could be like old times.

He waited until the weekend to call his brother to announce the news. Gerard didn't want to call too late because it was a Saturday where Mikey could be getting shitfaced, but he waited until midday when he was done with his laundry and was sorting it all away after washing it all in the laundry room in the basement of his apartment complex.

"Yeah I get like a month off before we start working for real," Gerard said while putting his clothes away. "I figured I could visit you because I'd rather spend my birthday with my brother than with coworkers."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Mikey mumbled on his end of the line.

"What do you mean?" He waited for Mikey's pause to end while he folded up another pair of pants.

"Well, Patrick is still here," his brother told him. If he could have found a way to be in New York and still be with Patrick he would have done it, but he couldn't let him pursuing his dreams stop the boy. Patrick was still so young, he still had so much life in him and Gerard didn't want to keep the boy from exploring that.

"Okay," was all Gerard could muster. "Is he still mad?"

"I don't know, but he's dating someone else now," Mikey mentioned.

"What? Who is it? I bet it's Pete, he always had a weird thing for Patrick," he started drilling questions into the phone.

"No Pete's dating this Jennifer girl," his brother answered. "It's kind of someone you know."

"Is it you?" Mikey was being so weird about his answers that Gerard could only guess that his brother was trying to spare his feelings.

"No, what kind of guy do you take me for? Dating my brother's ex - what the fuck?! It's this guy who said he knew you. Ray told me not to talk about it to him. He looks weird, like, he has big glasses with really fucked up hair?"

Gerard's breath was caught in his throat along with the words he didn't want to say. "Patrick's dating Justin Pierre?"

~~~~~

"Okay, now try these," Justin pushed the little clear plastic sauce cup across the bed to the half-naked boy. "Vodka soaked gummy bears. Here, you'll like the cherry ones."

Patrick rolled over to his other side and watched his boyfriend as he picked a bear out of the cup. When a gummy was brought up to his lips, he made a point of sucking on the older man's thumb along with the candy. He was humming around the digit until the gummy was mostly gone. "It almost like you just want to get me drunk so you can fuck me."

"What me?!" Justin brought his hands up to his mostly bare chest (if he didn't count his chest hair) as if he was shocked. "You act like I hadn't done that before." He laughed as he crashed into the bed and scooted closer to Patrick to offer him another gummy bear. The boy took in his teeth and waited for the older man

The boy took in his teeth and waited until the older man got the hint and leaned in for the two of them to kiss around the candy. With two tongues moving around like that, the little bears weren't going to last long. But they continued doing it, gummy bear after gummy bear until they were all out with nothing but the syrup left in the cup.

"I've got an idea," Justin grinned and sank down the bed to Patrick's boxers.

"The hell you doing?" The boy pulled part of his shirt up to help see better but it didn't help much.

"Just let me," the older man struggled to get the boy's boxers off. He grinned like an idiot when he chucked them off the bed, but he quickly got down to business and he tried to scrape as much of the syrup as he could before rubbing against Patrick's cock.

It didn't take as long for Patrick to come out to this boyfriend as he did the last one. Mostly because his friends had cut him off from buying booze the same night Justin offered him a drink. Two drinks in and Patrick was ready to let this new man take over and replace his old love.

Justin was carefully licking the syrup off of Patrick's folds, completely ignoring the boy's cock. It was exactly what the teenager wanted; no love, just sex, the occasional drink and maybe an unidentifiable pill. He had a hand in Justin's hair (not messing it up any further than it already was) before he gave up trying to sit and watch and just let his head fall into the mattress. When Patrick was drunk, he thought Justin was so much better at this than his ex anyway.

"Oh God," Patrick moaned to the ceiling. "Don't stop, baby."

"I got you 'Tricky, don't worry," Justin stated before he went back to sucking on the small dick. Patrick's thighs started to cave in on Justin's head, and the older man knew he was doing well.

Drunk Patrick never lasted as long as sober Patrick and he knew it. The warmth of the other man's mouth. The security of his legs being held in place by Justin's tight grip on his thighs. The sensation going up his spine. It was so much better when Justin had him going for awhile.

"Here, bring your hips up, I got something for you." Justin lifted his head up and licked his lips. Patrick did as instructed with some help and the older man put his tongue on the boy's body again. Just a little lower than it was before.

"Oh!" Patrick didn't know how to react at first; this was a whole new experience for him. A toe-curling, hand clenching, loud moaning experience for him. Justin was teasing him by doing it slowly, before a hand was back on his cock, jerking it slowly. He wanted both hands on Patrick to be holding him in place because the boy was just going to keep rolling around on the bed without something to anchor him. "Oh God! Don't stop! Don't stop, don't stop don't stop don't stop..."

All of the noise his was boyfriend was making started to drown out as Justin worked harder. A few times he had to move his body further up the mattress when the boy would scoot away. He knew he could keep a hand on Patrick so they both could stay still, but all the moaning was making Justin's dick leak and he wanted to come just as bad his boyfriend did.

"Oh god, baby," Patrick whimpered. He was so close. Admittedly, he didn't know how he managed to last as long as he had. Justin was pushing his tongue in when the boy lost it. His legs were jumping off of the mattress as his orgasm washed over him.

Justin kept working his tongue into the boy while he was spilling over his own fingers. He pulled off of the poor boy once he was done himself. Instinctively moving his jaw from side to side to get the feeling back, he asked the other man in his bed, "You good, 'Tricky?"

"Yeah," he replied with his eyes closed and his mouth slack.

"You sure?" Justin fixed his pants to cover himself and then fell right next to Patrick.

"I have given rimjobs but I have never received one." He was still breathless. Good thing he was already laying down or he'd be knocked out on his rear. "That was amazing." Patrick rolled over to throw an arm over his boyfriend. "I'm so tired. I can't do anything anymore... just let me sleep."

"Baby," Justin purred as played his fingers down the boy's arm like he was playing the piano. "You've had a night. You need to go to sleep."

"Yeah," Patrick blindly agreed. The band playing at a local bar was fun earlier that day. Then the after party at Justin's place that started with clumsy couch sex and ended with shots and some drunken experiments. Now, he was snoozing on the pillow.

"You want some pants?"

"Oh shit, yeah," he exclaimed when he realized his ass was still bare to the world.  
Justin just laughed at him and went to grab his boxers off of the floor before returning back to bed. Once Patrick was dressed, he flung the blanket over both of them and turned off the light on his side of the bed.

"Alright baby," he said with a kiss on the boy's cheek while he wrapped his arms around the boy's back. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah... morning," Patrick tried to say before he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Justin Pierre is still not a character on AO3 so a lot of the tags might come out wonky. I wasn't going to change who the character was just because of this, but I still feel like I need to give everyone a head's up.


	2. Trade baby blues for wide eyed browns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will acknowledge that a lot of people might want to skip this chapter because it has a lot of DDLG aspects in it. I personally wanted to write a piece about this subject to experiment with it myself and this is was just the most recent project I was working on and it fit story wise. If you do skip this chapter, all you have to know is: (1) Gerard is seeing Ryan Ross and they play at his apartment. (2) This isn't a bash against Ryan at all, but this is about how Gerard has hit a new low in his life that he's willing to do this for a play partner as opposed to trying to get a boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "G.I.N.A.S.F.S." by Fall Out Boy

"I wanna play."

Gerard read the text message over and over again until it was burned into his mind. He was at work at the time he received it, so he had to wait until he was at least outside to respond.

"Hey baby boy," he called when he was on his way out the door. There was no way in hell he was going to let alone at work hear what was going on.

"Hey Daddy," the voice purred.

"You have this weekend open?" he used his free arm to hail a cab.

"I do. I even packed up my backpack so I can stay the night."

Gerard smiled. His "baby boy" was his little dirty secret. It started a few months ago when he was out with some of his old New York friends. He saw the boy, clearly using a fake ID to get into the club, try again at the bar but was failing miserably. He ended up buying the boy a sympathy drink, and then bringing his date home after his friends ditched him for the night.

That night he had the boy sprawled out on his bed, and the little voice accidentally squeaked out the magic word that sent Gerard on this downward spiral of weird kinks. "Oh, daddy..."

He pulled his lips off of the boy's cock, "What did you say?" The boy was all embarrassed by the outburst but Gerard was having none of it, "If I'm 'Daddy,' what does that make you?"

The boy looked up at him when he loomed over the smaller body on his hands and knees. "That doesn't freak you out?"

"No," Gerard replied with a grin. "I like it."

"Call me your 'baby boy' then," the boy said, wrapping his arms around the man's neck.

They spent the next morning discussing what all went into the boy's kink, and Gerard found himself a new addiction. He made a point of buying some small things for his new playmate so they could stay at his apartment; a backpack for him to put everything in, a few sex toys, some extra clothes, and a set of keys so he could come over whenever the time came up. Coincidentally, the boy also lived in Hoboken, so it made for quick and easy weekend play sessions.

"Daddy's catching a cab right now," Gerard saw a yellow taxi coming towards the corner. "Can you be there before me?"

"If I leave now," his little boy answered.

"Remember where the extra key is?" Gerard asked as the cab pulled up in front of him.

"In my back pack!" he snarked back.

"Good, be a good boy until I get home, okay?" The older man asked while putting his bags into the cab.

He told the driver where he was headed before he heard on the other end, "Can't wait. See you soon, Daddy!"

~~~~~

He arrived at his apartment and knew that his little boy was already there; he just had a feeling. However, he never knew what to expect when he opened the door.

Nobody in the living room, he noted. He put his work stuff down on the coffee table, taking his time to peer into the bedroom. The door was unlocked and cracked open.

Bingo.

He opened the door to see his little boy laying in bed, one of his blankets from home wrapped around him, trying to nap. Unless he called Gerard while standing in the apartment, there was no way he could have been there fast enough to nap that long. Deciding that he was too tired to instigate anything, he flopped onto the bed next to the sleeping boy.

Brown eyes fluttered open to see him, "Hi Daddy!"

He smiled back and brought the boys head closer so he could place a quick peck on his brow, "Hi, Ryan baby."

"You tired?" the little boy asked with a sing-song voice.

"Work was tough," Gerard admitted. "I just need to lie down for a bit." He looked up in time to see Ryan put the blanket in his mouth. "What has Daddy said about sucking on blankets?"

"But I wanna play," Ryan huffed.

"Play? Like..." He tried to hint at it, but he wasn't going to say it outright. He loved this whole interaction he had with Ryan; how the boy would beg, how they could play along with each other, but mostly how the boy was just a sub. Neither of them would get into the baby aspect or try to age regress too young, hell, for Gerard dating an eighteen year old was the closest he wanted to get to it. Reality, he had a barely legal teenager willing to let him do anything.

"I wanna play," he sighed as he threw the blanket off of him and put himself on his knees. He was wearing one of Gerard's shirts and a pair of novelty ninja turtles underwear - the closest thing to little kid underwear he could his hands on that would fit.

"Where'd you get that shirt?" he noticed that almost immediately.

"Your closet," Ryan pulled at the shirt. "It just looked so comfy."

"But you didn't ask." The older man looked at the boy's brown eyes widen.

"Yes sir, but -" he was interrupted.

"That was a statement. Not a question." Gerard was being firm.

"Do you want me to take it off?" The boy continued to play with the hem of the shirt while he talked.

"No, but you still need to ask," Gerard sat up. "Does Daddy need to get his 'little helper?'" His "little helper" was a large paddle he found in a toy shop one day and kept it in the bedroom on a hook up on the wall so he never had to go looking for it.

Ryan's eyes looked down in shame. Secretly he loved it. Being spanked was one of his favorite things, but only to a degree. So, he needed to keep up the act that he was a good boy. He looked back up and whimpered, "No, sir."

"Good," Gerard hopped off the bed. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, sir." The game was starting between the two of them. When his answers were short and direct, he was starting to get hot and bothered.

"What did you eat?" Gerard wasn't going to play so easily.

"A yogurt and two waffles," Ryan put up two fingers to make sure he was being clear.

"Good, what did you drink?" Gerard put an arm on either side of the boy once the boy moved up to the edge of the bed.

"Water and a juice box," Ryan distracted himself with the chords on Gerard's hoodie.

"So," he put his hands on the top of the boy's just to get him to stop playing with his hoodie strings. "Do you really want to play tonight?"

"Yes sir," a smile stretched across his face as he said words.

"Daddy needs to shower. What do you want to do while you wait?" Gerard wrapped his arms around the boy's middle.

"Tv?" They didn't usually have the tv on; it was more of a distraction anyway.

"You can pick the movie," Gerard gave the boy a quick peck on the lips before letting go long enough for Ryan to skyrocket into the living room. He was already digging through the DVDs when Gerard walked in. "Nothing scary, baby. Be appropriate!"

"Got it!"

He smiled and walked back to his bedroom to undress and shower. Not trying to use anything fancy to wash himself with, not even trying to turn himself on, he was just desperately wanting to get the smell of turpentine out his hair before he went to bed tonight. Now was as good a moment as ever so that the boy had to wait in the other room. He took his time to sort his clothes in the separated hampers, start up the water, wait until it was warm and then get in.

Shampoo in hand, he washed his hair first, enjoying the smell of it being menthol instead of art supplies that smelt like floor cleaner. Then he washed the rest of him, not thoroughly because he hadn't really been active enough that day to justify it, but he did spend some time on making sure his dick was clean just in case the boy wanted to suck on it. Just the thought of it was making him hard, which was his sign to get out and go play with his baby boy.

After he turned the shower off, gave himself a quick dry off with a towel, he got dressed in a simple pair of pajama pants and another band tee. He took note of how long his hair was getting when he saw his reflection in the mirror. He really didn't look a lot like he did a year ago, but given how we felt about himself and his relationship at the time, he was almost too elated to not be that man anymore.

On his way into his living room, he made sure to grab the paddle from his wall - just in case - and the boy's backpack from the floor. He stashed them next to the couch that the boy was sitting on and snuggled his way next to Ryan. The boy almost didn't even notice, his eyes staring at the movie while he cuddled up with a pillow. He did squeak however when he felt arms pull him into Gerard's lap.

"Hi daddy," he grinned and locked lips with the older man. The kisses weren't passionately filled with love but rather filled with lustful desire. This is what Gerard felt like he needed. No relationship. Just weird, kinky sex.

"What are we watching?" he asked Ryan.

"Big Fish," he answered, eyes darting back to the screen.

Gerard's mind flashed back to one of his first dates with Patrick: watching Pulp Fiction in the dorm room, cuddling each other while they watched just to eventually ignore the movie and make out with one another. He didn't want to miss his ex-boyfriend. Especially with someone new in his arms.

"How close is it to the end?" he pondered aloud. "I didn't think a shower would have been too long."

"It's almost over," Ryan dropped the pillow at the other end of the couch and snuggled back into the older man's arms. "I was watching this last time I was over but I fell asleep. So I started where I left off."

"That's my baby," the older man said with a grin. "Not a quitter."

The boy squirmed down so his head was resting on Gerard's chest while they both had their bodies facing the screen. Ryan loved getting his hair played with during these domesticated moments. Made him feel like he was a prized possession or a really expensive pet. He had tried to get Gerard into pet play a week or so ago, but had failed miserably. But he figured if he could get the man interested in some daddy dom play, then pet play could be a piece of cake.

Gerard was getting interested in the movie; the main character was fighting in the Korean War and met conjoined twins, but then it was revealed that it was a story being told to another character, which if he has to guess would be the main character's son during the present while the story is about the dad's past. He was genuinely interested in watching the rest of the movie when Ryan started rubbing his back into his daddy's crotch.

"Daddy's watching the movie, baby boy," he didn't even look down to acknowledge the behavior. "We'll play when the movie's over."

Ryan sunk down to the floor and crossed his legs. He crossed his arms to match and poked out his bottom lip in a huffy pout. Gerard tried to meet the boy halfway so he tried to pet the boy's head but Ryan snapped his head away.

"Hey!" Gerard shot up to sit and put his feet on the floor. He never got off of the couch but he leaned far enough so he could give out commands with a firm shake of his index finger. "We will play when the movie's over."

The boy kept his pout and glared at Gerard. "I don't like you right now, Daddy."

Gerard grabbed the boy's face with a single hand, fingers squeezing the tiny face by the cheeks. "If you don't stop, Daddy's going to have to put you in time out. Do you want that?"

This was the part of their role-playing space that Ryan lived for. He loved getting a little punished, but he always worked for it like the little brat he was. "I want to play."

"And when we will play?" He kept a firm grip on the boy's face.

"When the movie is over." This earned him the freedom of Gerard letting go of his face.

"Good boy," he leaned back into the couch and continued to watch what was remaining of the movie. He was going to have to watch it from the beginning at one point.

"Mean 'ol Daddy," he heard from beneath him. His patience was wearing thin.

"You know what, corner!" He snapped. The boy blinked at him a few times before he repeated himself, pointing at the corner in the room near the tv. "I said corner!"

The boy got up and huffed his way to the corner. Not sad at all for the predicament he was in but mad that he was put in it. Gerard directed his attention back to the television.

"You can get out when the movie's over." The film was literally at a funeral scene so he could only imagine that it wasn't going to take long.

He would occasionally look over at the boy to make sure he was behaving, which he was for the most part. He'd huff and stomp a foot from time to time, but he was still for being good. The next time Gerard looked over, Ryan had pulled his cock out of his underwear and was lightly tugging at it, still facing the wall.

"You think because you can't see me, that I can't see you?" The boy stopped playing with himself when Gerard snapped at him. He didn't dare move.

"Ryan! Get over here!" The boy started to tip toe back to the couch while stuffing himself back into his pants. "Oh no, you wanted to play with your toy, now you get to leave it out."

There was something entertaining about calling his dick a toy.

"Knees," the man growled and the boy sunk to his knees in front of Gerard. The boy's cock was still poking out of his Ninja Turtles underwear proudly. "That's enough out of you for the night, young man."

"But Daddy!" the boy pleaded.

"No buts! Daddy told you to do something and you didn't listen," Gerard leaned over the side of the couch and pulled his 'little helper' up. "You know the consequences for disobeying."

The boy's face turned into a frown and the crocodile tears started to swell up in his eyes. "But but but..."

"I will give you two options," Gerard used his hands to demonstrate what he was telling the boy. "You can either get twenty spankings with Daddy's hand or ten from daddy's little helper. If you don't make a decision, I will make it for you."

Ryan covered his mouth with a hand and grumbled into it. He was actually crying.

"Would you like to repeat that?" The older man asked.

"That's not fair," Ryan whimpered.

"I'm going to try to ask you again: my hand or the paddle?" He brought both up to try and make the decision go faster.

"Is there another option?" The boy asked.

"You're about to get both," he said, not breaking eye contact with the boy.

"Daddy's being an asshole," Ryan glared up at him between his tears, meaning every word.

"Okay that's it," he stood up and pulled Ryan along with him. He held both the backpack and the paddle with his free hand and made his way back to the bed. The whole walk back to the bedroom was filled with the boy protesting and asking him 'please' again and again. Gerard sat on the bed first before pulling the boy to lie across his knees. He was pulling the back of the underwear down while explaining his new set of rules, "You're going to count each time. If I can't hear you, I'm going to do it again. Understand?"

"Yes sir," Ryan turned his head back to the floor so he could hide his crocodile tears. The first smack came from the paddle and the boy jumped up with a gasp. "One," he moaned out.

Gerard made a point of hitting the same spot twice just for good measure. Ryan moaned out again, "Two."

The next one came down on the other cheek and made the boy arch his back so his rear was further in the air. "Three."

Slap.

"Four."

Slap.

"Five."

SLAP.

"...six."

He was hitting harder now but the boy could still say his words coherently, so it wasn't hard enough in his mind. Ryan's right ass cheek was glowing red so he aimed there again. "Oh, fuck..."

Gerard hit again, right against the same spot, "Babies don't cuss and that's not a number."

"Eight?" Ryan's voice was small. He was starting to get the idea now.

"No baby. We're not there yet," Gerard firmly reminded him.

"Seven then?" The boy's body was clenching up.

"Yes baby," he let his free hand roam up Ryan's back. As soon as the boy seemed to be calming down, he struck again. "Now?"

The boy bit his bottom lip to keep from moaning. "...eight."

"Good boy." He could see the tears forming in the boy's closed eyes, a single tear running down the boy's face. He smacked again, still aiming for that right cheek.

"N-nine!" Ryan whimpered.

"We're almost done," he added. He took his time before smacking harshly for the last time.

"Ten!" Ryan practically screamed. He was white knuckling the comforter beneath him but was also rock hard and it was digging into Gerard's thigh.

"Good job," he sighed and took the boy's underwear by the waistband and pulled them down all the way to his ankles, letting the boy kick them off to the floor. "But you know we're not done."

"I was a good boy though," Ryan mumbled.

"Good boys don't get spanked for calling their daddies assholes, do they?" Gerard growled.

Ryan pulled himself up and looked back over his shoulder. There was more than just a single tear running down his face. "No, sir."

"Good." Gerard dropped the paddle to the floor and struck the boy's left cheek with his hand. "Count."

Ryan's head sunk down, and sighed, "One."

He slapped the boy's ass again. He could feel the body trembling under him. "Two."  
He smacked twice for good measure this time. "Three...four."

Ryan's back started to arch up like he was trying to bear down on the pain. He was either getting close to his pain tolerance limit or had already hit it. Gerard slapped his ass again. "F-f-five."

Ryan was breaking down, but Gerard was too dedicated to his role and needed to finish out the punishment.

Another smack to the boy's behind but no words came out. He waited for the boy's sobs and breathing to catch back up with him. "We're at six now, baby boy."

Ryan shook his head, tears now staining the comforter beneath him. His arms were locked in place and his hands were stiff from gripping at the fabric.

Gerard had a feeling that play time was about to take a break. "Say it," he prompted the boy. He'd either say a number or their safe word, so he had to be sure.

"Six..." Ryan mumbled out. He wanted to keep going, so Gerard slapped his ass harder this time and the boy choked out a gasp. "No...no..."

"No what?" Gerard knew it was coming, but he wanted the boy to be sure of it.

"Disco," Ryan cried softly. "Disco. Disco. Disco."

There it was. Ryan kept chanting their safe word when Gerard pulled the boy into his lap with strong arms around his shoulders.  
"You did good, I'm so sorry baby," he said into the boy's hair.

Ryan was still crying while his body wouldn't stop shaking. "That was too much... You can't do all that," he cried and buried his face in Gerard's chest and his hard-on into Gerard's lap. The boy was still a big baby when it came to pain; he knew that there were others out there that could take much more than what was given to him, but he bruised like a peach and couldn't handle too much of it. He still wanted it every time they played, though. Strange little thing.

"You weren't listening to me, and Daddy needed to make sure you would follow directions." The older man kissed the top of the boy's head. "I won't do it again. Promise."

"Good," Ryan whimpered. He was rubbing the tears from his eyes when Gerard sat him up on the bed.

"Who's my precious little boy? Say it." He took the boy's chin in hand so he could raise the little head back up to him. He wanted to get the boy in a better mood.

"...me?" Ryan was still removing a few tears.

"What are you?" Gerard grinned.

"Daddy's little boy," Ryan weakly smiled.

"There he is," the older man said before he pulled the boy into a kiss. "Since you were a good boy, how do you want to play tonight?"

"I want you, Daddy," Ryan climbed on top so he was straddling Gerard's hips, wrapped his arms around the big shoulders, and then bit his bottom lip like he didn't know what to say next.

"You can use big boy words," the man chuckled.

"I want Daddy to fuck me into the mattress, and then I want a bubble bath because I'll be sore and I want to go to bed clean." Gerard thought that Ryan was smiling a little too much to be asking if he really wanted it.

"Where do you want daddy to fuck you?" He let his fingers graze the boy's legs.

"My little boy pussy," Ryan buried his face away. He loved it but just saying it aloud was embarrassing.

"How do you want daddy to fuck you?" He grabbed the boy's asscheeks and kneaded them between his fingers. The burn was still there but Ryan was genuinely enjoying himself now.

"Until I can't walk anymore..." That just about does it.

"Shirt?" Ryan's arms shot up before Gerard had fully asked the question so he could be completely undressed. It was his shirt so Gerard tossed it towards his hamper. The man took careful care to make sure he was being gentle; he needed to be after overstepping his boundaries with his punishment earlier. "Let me grab everything we need. Okay, baby?"

Ryan smirked as he sprawled out on the bed and flipped onto his back so he could watch Gerard move about. "Take your time, Daddy."

Gerard kept everything he needed in the nightstand drawer next to the bed; easy access. One condom and a strawberry flavored bottle of lube (because Ryan liked the way it made the room smell) and he was back. He was still fully dressed as he climbed on top of the bare body beneath him.

Ryan ran both of his hands through Gerard's damp hair. "Why does Daddy keep his hair so long?"

"Daddy hides behind his hair until he gets home," he said honestly.

Their lips collided but Ryan pulled at Gerard's lower lip with his teeth. "My daddy," he moaned when he finally let go.

"Yes baby," the older man sighed as he pulled away and pulled his pants down enough to take his cock out. He always got himself ready before prepping the boy, out of habit for when Ryan would get impatient. Gerard bit the wrapper open and then pulled the condom over top himself. He popped open the top of the lube and squeezed some of it onto two fingers and then smeared it against the boy's hole. He pushed a single finger into Ryan that made the boy wail.

"More, Daddy," he heard the boy begging. Gerard obliged and pushed a second finger in when thrust the first one back in. He was by no means nice about it as he continued finger banging the body beneath him. It didn't help that Ryan was becoming needy and started fucking himself into Gerard's hand.

"Daddy needs to fuck you soon," the man moaned. "You're being too good."

"Isn't that a good thing?" the boy laughed between his thrusts.

"Come here." Gerard wiped the lube on the fabric of his pants before grabbing the boy's hips and pulling Ryan onto his cock, quickly burying himself into the body beneath him. Being fully dressed during sex was another part of their game; it kept Gerard in control. The pace started fast and relentless like he was hell-bent on really fucking the boy through the mattress. Exactly what the boy had asked for.

Ryan was loud and he didn't hide it. Every quick thrust was rewarded with a gasp, a moan, or him begging relentlessly. "Daddy please..." he moaned. Gerard found his spot.

He was arching back and grasping at the comforter when Gerard asked him," What do you need baby?"

"I think you know, Daddy." Ryan grabbed a hold of one of Gerard's hands and brought it up to his throat.

"Oh, baby..." Gerard had to back off from his thrusts to keep from cumming right there.

"Remember," the boy moaned. "Just the sides." Gerard had discovered that the hard way. It felt just as good for the boy when the sides of his neck were being squished than if it was the middle; which was a hell of a lot safer, too. He tightened a grip around the boy's throat and went back to his furious pace. The boy let out noise that could wake the dead, or Gerard's neighbors at the very least.

"I'm so close," he rasped out. Ryan kept both of his hands on Gerard's wrist, making sure it wasn't going to move it elsewhere.

"You want to play with your toy?" the man asked each word punctuated with a thrust into the boy's needy body. He kept his hips angled to hit the boy's prostate each time. "Play with yourself until you cum. Daddy needs you to cum first."

A hand left the man's wrist and the boy started pulling on his cock with quick jerks. He couldn't stop whimpering from the pleasure if he wanted to. "Daddy..."

"You almost there baby?" Gerard had to ask, mostly because he wasn't going to last much longer himself.

"Oh God Daddy!" He should take that as a yes. Once he lost his tight grip on the boy's throat and gave a few sharp movements of his hips, Gerard brought the boy to completion. A messy, screaming, back bending, legs wrapping around him to bury him in deeper, cum slicking up both of their stomachs, and nails clawing at his back completion.

The boy went limp but held onto Gerard's arm. The man had let go of the boy's neck and pressed their foreheads together. "Can I just, fuck you until I'm done?"

The boy's eyes were glazed over and jaw was slack, but he nodded and held it together long enough to tell him, "No. You can fuck me senseless."

Gerard pulled out, flipped Ryan onto his stomach and entered him again at the same frantic pace he was doing earlier. Desperate for his own release, he grabbed the boy by the hair and put a death grip on the boy's hip. He threw his head back when he moaned loudly just to get his hair out of his face. When he heard the boy say something he let go of Ryan's head, "What baby?"

"Harder," Ryan mumbled under him. The boy was on his elbows with his head hung low between his arms. "And grab my hair again."

Gerard took both requests in stride, grabbing Ryan's hair so hard that the boy arched his back in pleasure. He was initially surprised that the boy had bounced back so quickly, especially since he hadn't come yet. "Keep playing with yourself baby, I ain't gonna last that long."

"Oh god, yes daddy!" Ryan squirmed at the request. He very quickly turned into a sloppy mess only chanting "yes daddy" again and again while his hand worked furiously on his cock. The boy started to fuck himself on Gerard's cock so the man stopped moving entirely to keep himself from cumming.  
  
How many unsexy things could he think of until the boy finished for the second time? Mikey, he could think about Mikey. Actually, the thought was making his stomach churn. Same went with his parents. He was distracting himself long enough that Ryan bucked harshly enough that Gerard lost the grip on the boy's hair. The boy continued to fuck himself on the older man's dick until he spilled over his fingers with a pitiful sounding whimper escaping his lips. The muscles around Gerard's cock tightened and he was gone in just a few thrusts. A few unwanted words spilled out of his mouth quicker than than he was filling up the condom in between them. He was coming off of the high of his orgasm a little too late to catch the *words* from coming out. Gerard's whole body shuddered at the thought.

He pressed a kiss on Ryan's shoulder blade and then he apologized, "I'm sorry." It wasn't the first time he said Patrick's name during sex, but it wasn't any less embarrassing every time it happened.

"I know." The boy mustered up enough of his strength to twist himself and throw his arm back to pull the man's head down for a kiss. This one was different from the rest of them that night; it was sweet and calm, like the two of them had all the time in the world to be with each other. That kiss wasn't Ryan's apology but just his way of telling Gerard he understood.

"It'll stop eventually, I promise," he started apologizing but the boy pressed a finger to Gerard's lips.

"What am I?" He pulled his hand away so his Daddy could answer him.

"Daddy's little boy," the man grinned as he said it.

"And what did daddy's little boy want to after we played?" Ryan's voice was growing weary.

"I can get you a bath," Gerard snickered as he pulled away. He grabbed the condom by the base as he removed himself from the boy beneath him. A quick tie and he tossed it into a trash bin by his desk and pulled his pants up. He was already off of the bed walking on wobbly legs. "You want some toys in the tub or what, baby boy?"

Ryan was worn out and sprawled out, laying on the bed, but he watched Gerard's every movement with attentive eyes. "I asked for bubble bath. Do we still have bubbles?"

"I do, you know I keep them just for you," the man bent over the boy for a kiss, Spider-Man style. "Let me go get it."

He walked off to the bathroom to start up the bath. His bathroom wasn't much to look at but he was in a small one bedroom apartment by himself, so it was kept clean for the most part. The tub was built into the wall with the shower also installed behind the tiles. Gerard kept all of his "play things" under the sink cabinet just in case someone else came by, which hardly ever happened but he wanted to be prepared nonetheless. He grabbed the bubble bath, the kid grade so it produced more bubbles rather than exfoliate the users skin, and brought it to the edge of the tub.

He started the water, checking it with his forearm to make sure he wouldn't burn the boy. Once the temperature was right, he poured the bubble mixture into the running water. It was filling up nicely when he decided to go get Ryan.

The boy was still lying exactly as he was left there earlier. He was snoozing for the most part before Gerard walked up. "Your highness? Your chariot awaits."

Ryan smiled from ear to ear when the man popped up next to the bed and then started giggling when Gerard dropped to a knee and extended his hand like a knight asking for a dance. He shot his arms up as he screamed, "Pick me up, please! My body can't handle walking!"

"Certainly." Gerard grinned as he grabbed the boy bridal style off of the bed. "You're so heavy for a lanky little thing."

"No, I'm a little boy, remember?" Ryan wrapped his arms around Gerard's shoulders.

"You're adorable." The older man was ultra careful and took his time to tiptoe around the doorway to make sure he didn't bump the boy's head. A couple of steps more and he was able to drop the boy into the warm water.

"This is great," Ryan sighed. He leaned his head back on the edge of the tub.

"I'm glad you're happy, baby." Gerard stood there watching awkwardly in the middle of his bathroom. God this boy was cute.

"So happy, Daddy," the boy sighed again and leaned up to sit upright and play with the bubbles.

"Can we stop playing for a minute?" Gerard put the toilet seat cover down and sat on it, rubbing his flat hands against one another.

"Yeah sure, what's up?" Ryan looked up. He had dropped the whole little boy act in just a sentence. He went back to his normal voice and wasn't practically singing as he spoke. He was even mature enough to give Gerard his undivided attention.

"I get there's no chance between of us because we're basically 'fuck buddies,' but how do you pursue a relationship with someone while you're like this?"

"You know," Ryan's eyes moved about, like the words he was looking for were written on the shower tiles. "I never thought about doing this while in a relationship."

"I mean, I will never be able to have my kid call me 'Daddy' in the future," Gerard chuckled. "You've ruined that word for me."

"Ruined, or improved?" the boy said with a grin.

"Don't even." Gerard ran a hand through his long hair to get it out his face. "But, seriously? You've never thought about a real relationship?"

"My life is my job and my band. This is my escape from it all, where I get to enjoy the orders being given to me instead of being ordered around like a servant." Ryan pushed some of the bubbles out of the way of his chest. "I don't know if I'd introduce this part of me into a real relationship. Too intimate. Ironically."

"So you don't think about having a future with someone special?" the older man asked.

"Maybe one day my faceless dream lover will pop into my life and it'll change everything," Ryan said with a shrug.

"What do you get out of this?" Gerard asked.

"Well," Ryan pondered the thought then started to make a mental list. "I can relax here. The whole age regression is very calming after the weeks I work. The whole daddy thing has actually helped with my anxiety. But that's just me. What about you?"

"I don't drink heavily or go out to get drugs when I spend the weekend with you, like, you're my addiction," Gerard added. The boy made a face so he continued, "And if we're being safe about it, I'd rather be addicted to our play time than to anything that can really harm me."

"Honestly? I think you get to escape reality for a minute and that's what you're addicted to," the boy's words took Gerard off guard. He was right. And the truth hurt. "It's not a bad thing. I just think that's what you get from it."

"Like away from that whole ex-situation?" the older man wondered aloud.

"Yeah, like that," the boy nodded in agreement. He played around with the bubbles for a minute before changing the subject. "What would you do if a real relationship popped up?"

"If I really liked the individual, we'd have to stop," the man said truthfully. "It just wouldn't feel right."

"I feel the same, but if my band went on tour or got signed, I'd have to leave for that as well," Ryan admitted.

"It makes sense," Gerard agreed. "Would you find someone else while on tour?"

"I might look for someone to stay with me while on tour, like a roadie," the boy momentarily played with the bubbles. "But it wouldn't be this intense."

"So this is just an experience, or like a sexual vacation?"

"Basically."

Gerard nodded like he fully understood what the boy meant, but he just decided that it best if he didn't know it all the way. "So there's this thing coming up..."

"What kind of thing?" Ryan asked, not looking up from his bubbles.

"I'm getting out of work for a little while, like a few weeks, around my birthday." He noticed the boy stiffen up a bit and wondered for a minute if he should keep asking. He mentally toned down his initial offer from wanting the boy to spend a week or two with him in his apartment, but he kept going with, "Nothing too serious, but if you wanted to go out with me and my friends or whatever."

"The same ones that ditched you the night we met?" Ryan side eyed him hard. Gerard knew damn well that his current friends were shit. Maybe shit would get better one day, but until then, he had shitty friends with good drugs.

"Yeah," he admitted to the boy. "Maybe not then?"

"Maybe a night or so," Ryan batted his eyes as he said it, trying to get his little boy charm back. "But I don't know how much longer we can do this. I think you need some personal time."

The older man blinked at the thought for a moment. Him being in Hoboken was personal time enough away from his previous relationship. "What do you mean?"

"You said it again."

Patrick. Neither of them could really say it, but Patrick's name alone was driving a wedge between them. Which, honestly, might not have been a bad thing; but Gerard didn't want to destroy what he had worked for over an ex's name.

"It's not a huge deal breaker but I'm worried about you not getting what you need from this like I'm just a temporary replacement for him or something." He pulled a hand out of the water and reached for one of Gerard's that were sitting on his knees. "Like we can't keep doing this. I can keep being here unless my band gets signed or whatever, but I don't think you can handle this."

Gerard was catching the words he wanted to say in his throat and it hurt like a son of a bitch to admit it. "I'm not fixable am I?"

"I'm not fixing you; you're not broken," the boy said when their hands broke apart. "Anything that needs to be fixed is all up to you. You have to be the one who does it."

"Fix me for me? It seems like a lot," he giggled at the thought.

"Let people take care of you in small doses when they offer," Ryan leaned over the edge of the tub for a moment. "Like right now, can I do something now?"

"Well, let me take care of you," Gerard offered. "Like... let me be able to control something. But you're right. Let me take care of myself for a minute. I haven't eaten, so I'm going to get something to eat while I clean up. How about you? Do you want anything?"

"I'm good, thanks," Ryan grinned up at him. "I really did eat before I got here."

"Do you want to keep playing?" Gerard got back on his knees so he could rest his elbows on the edge of the tub and the boy went back to resting on the back of the tub. It wasn't like Ryan was trying to avoid being touched, he just wanted to enjoy what was left of his bath and his time as a little boy.

"I really do," the boy looked up like he was begging. "But no more sex for tonight. I'm worn out... but I can if you want to."

"I don't want to, being honest, you tired my ass out," Gerard said and then tried to smile through his discomfort. "But I want to make sure I can give you some time to chill in here. So when I come back, I'll know if it's playtime or not."

"That'd be amazing."

"Alright," he leaned and kissed the boy's brow. "I'll be back in a bit."

"See ya in a bit Daddy!" the boy sent him off.

Gerard kept the bathroom door open in case the boy needed something. He set off to work around the apartment; starting with making the bed and then moving his way to the living room. All he had to do in the living room was turn off the tv and put the DVD back in case. He really needed to watch the movie from beginning to end the next time he got a chance.

He took a second by himself to catch his brain up. He ruined one relationship by being selfish, and now he was about to ruin another one; if it could even be called that. A couple of deep breaths while alone in his kitchen and he could feel his back ease up, his shoulders loosened up, and he stopped feeling so tense.

His kitchen didn't have much to offer. He settled on a microwaveable burrito while he cleaned up the dishes in the sink. Once the appliance pinged at him, Gerard put away the last two plates he had waiting on the counter and went to get his food. He didn't bother with a plate since he just cleaned them all and wrapped up his meal with a paper towel before eating it.

When Gerard was done with his dinner he went back to the bathroom, only to find Ryan snoozing in the dying bubbles. He was going to take his time to brush his teeth quickly but he ultimately decided on waking the boy.

"Hey Ryan," he gently shook the boy awake. "You got to go bed, baby."

"I don't wanna," the boy pouted with his lip out.

"You're too tired baby," Gerard tried to reason with him.

Ryan's arms shot up, "Up please!"

Gerard couldn't carry the boy out like how he got him in the tub, but he helped Ryan out of the tub enough for him to stand up. He toweled the boy dry as the tub emptied what was remaining of soapy water and helped him into pajamas the man pulled from the boy's backpack; pajamas that consisted of another pair of novelty underpants and a loose tee that he stole from Gerard a few weeks ago.

Also in the backpack was the boy's toothbrush which the older man dug out of a side pocket. "You brush your teeth and I'll brush mine." The boy didn't put up any kind of fight over the process and quietly brushed his teeth. Gerard finished first, which shouldn't have been a contest, and used his extra time to clean Ryan's face with a wet towel and brush the boy's hair in place. Ryan spat out the toothpaste, cleaned his face of paste residue, and let Gerard lead him out of the bathroom.

The boy laid down on the bed, by taking up the whole mattress this time and let Gerard tuck him in. He didn't tuck Ryan in too tight because he was going to be sleeping along with him. "I'll go get the lights."

The boy giggled, "Don't let the bed bugs bite?"

"Yeah," Gerard nearly whispered. "Unless they ask nicely and you want to, right?"

"Always!"

The lights went out and the older man walked his way around the room in the dark. He did manage to run his knee into the bed frame but kept himself quiet. Should have cracked the door open so he could see partially, but that idea came a little too late.

"You okay, Daddy?" Ryan asked in the dark.

"Yeah, just..." Gerard winced. "Didn't see the bed for a minute."

"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" the voice asked in a sing-song voice.

"Daddy will be alright," the older man chuckled and got into bed, throwing the comforter off of the mattress and then wrapping himself up in it. Ryan was comfortably snuggled against him under the comforter, lights out, and fatigued from their rigorous activities earlier. He could sleep so well if he could get his mind to shut off for more than two seconds.

"Just because we were on the subject of being serious," the boy said in the darkness. "Can I talk freely about something?"

"Sure," Gerard said into the boy's shoulder, and in turn his ear.

"I don't think I can do this for much longer."

"Why do you think that?" He drew his brows together in confusion as if the boy could see.

"Just thinking about relationships," Ryan sighed. "I don't think I can handle one and this one is starting to take its toll on me. We're nothing more than fuck buddies and you have called me by your ex's name at least three times."

"Sorry." Gerard knew it. Each time he said Patrick's name it was a stab to the chest.

"You need to find some closure before you try to go into a relationship with anyone," the boy spoke so matter-a-factly about the issue.

"I know."

"I'm not that far behind you if it makes you feel any better..." Ryan explained. "Like our safe word? It's part of my band's name. I tried to have a relationship with the singer and it never worked out. I have to think about him in order to kill the mood while we're having sex."

"At least you're not shouting his name," Gerard grumbled.

"We'll get over our problems eventually..." Ryan nestled his head into Gerard's outstretched arm. "Just, not today."

"Yeah," Gerard agreed. Sleep was getting to him. He didn't want to end the conversation on such a dreary note, but he was too tired to add anything intelligent to the conversation. "Not today."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever wondered why Haunted Grounds took forever? This is why. This chapter is why. I stopped writing portions of Haunted Grounds to work on this. Originally, Ryan was a trans guy and I thought that it was too much of a low blow if Gerard "sought out" a guy who had a lot in common with Patrick. Then I liked the story too much, but I had written Gerard in a way (pun) that just wasn't him anymore so I took the core parts of it and then wrote a completely different 8 chapter story with the same concept and storyline but different characters. But it's being put on hold for me to work on the Demolition Lovers for a while, which is good news for you guys.


	3. I've already given up myself twice, third time is the charm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "G.I.N.A.S.F.S." by Fall Out Boy

He was well aware that the blankets were being pulled back while he was sleeping but it was Saturday and he was going to ignore it on his day off. But he had forgotten he wasn't sleeping alone. Maybe the boy would just let him sleep for a bit longer. But Ryan had other plans.

"Baby? What are you doing?" Gerard woke up with Ryan pulling his pants down. The teen was eyeing his half hard cock like a prize and it was scaring the living shit of him.

The boy took the head into his mouth and sucked it with hollowed cheeks before letting drop from his lips. "I'm hungry," he pouted.

"So you're gonna eat Daddy's cock?" Ryan nodded back at him and went down again. Gerard fully expected to the boy to protest to a hand holding him down by the hair but he instead was humming into it. He quickly changed his mind about Ryan scaring him. This was a perfect way to spend a lazy Saturday.

"Oh baby boy," he gasped as the boy was taking him whole. "Oh god, you're amazing."

Ryan pulled his head up and pumped Gerard's cock in his fingers. "I want you."

"Baby, go get my lube," he groaned back. "And then you can have me." He watched his baby boy slink off of the bed to the drawer and come back to bed with a smile. Ryan handed him the condom in its wrapper like the boy was somehow unable to get it open, and Gerard just set to work with getting it on himself. The faster he had it on, the faster he could fuck the boy in his bed. His baby boy popped the lube open and generously slicked him up. His cock was lubed up (that synthetic strawberry smell smacking him awake) when Ryan straddled him just barely hovering over him. "Doesn't Daddy need to loosen you up?"

"No, I'm still loose from you playing with me last night," the boy sighed heavily as he rubbed the older man's hard on between his ass cheeks. He wouldn't actually put it inside of him which was pissing Gerard off but at least they were both getting off from the friction.

"Then prove it," he sighed and ground the boy's hips down, just teasing without any penetration.

"Oh," Ryan gasped, closing his eyes suddenly. "Okay, daddy." He gathered up his strength and lowered himself onto the cock held up for him. "I got this," he lied to himself as he lifted himself up by his knees and lowered himself down again. "I got this, I got this, I got this..."

"Baby, let me loosen you up or at least get you some more lube," he tried protesting but the boy had grabbed his shoulders and set a slow and steady pace.

"No daddy, I got it," was the last thing the boy managed before his head fell back and he lost himself to the feeling of his prostate getting hit on the first attempt. Ryan licked his lips as he realized he was getting good at this; practice makes perfect.

"Oh baby, you're doing so good." Gerard had tight a grip on the boy's thighs, even if he was only half-ass fucking the teen's body. Usually coffee was a good pick-me-up in the morning, but breakfucking works too.

Ryan moaned loudly before steadying his hips. "Daddy... I need you to fuck me."

"Need?" he had to question between half-awake and fully horny. "How bad?"

"Daddy... don't play," the boy begged. "Please Daddy! Please!"

Gerard didn't wait. He fully pulled out of the aching body beneath him just to flip the boy onto his stomach and press right back into that tight heat. Both of them were hot panting messes, desperate to get off. Between Ryan's little hips bucking back against every thrust into him and Gerard's broader hips working like a piston, neither of them were going to last long.

But Gerard lost himself somewhere in that tight heat. Every pant, every moan, every whimper was bringing him closer to completion. Normally he lasted longer, but normally he got a bit more of a warm-up than a hot and ready teenager sucking on his cock when he woke up. He was sure his nails were leaving dark little marks in the boy's hips, three little crescent moons in a line on each side, but he kept his thrusts deep and angled to the boy's prostate.

"Oh Daddy," Ryan panted into the pillows. He was moaning mess of slurred words and heavy pants but he never stopped him from backing up into Gerard's sharp thrusts. "Oh D-Daddy, Daddy please!"

There was a shrill melody of beeps that cut between them. Gerard was mindlessly ignoring it and just focusing on the heat beneath him; that tight heat that radiated from Ryan's little body.

"Daddy, it's my phone," he moaned as he stretched, trying to reach his bag on the floor. It had to be one of his bandmates. No one else would be calling, and certainly, no one would be calling him if something didn't happen. Hopefully something good. "Daddy, please let me get it."

Gerard was so lost in what was going on, he didn't even register what Ryan was saying. He could hear the phone but it was so far in the back of his mind that he couldn't even process it between the moans, pants, and the sound of skin slapping against skin. The boy was arching his back and slapping his hand against the older man's arm and all Gerard could think of was how close he was and how all he wanted to do was make sure that two of them both got off.

Ryan was slapping his arm harder and pleading, "Daddy, please!"

"Oh baby, I'm so close," he muttered, still not getting it.

"Gerard... just let me get my phone," the boy whined. His slaps got harder until he realized how he wasn't being taken seriously, so he pushed the older man off of him hard enough that he was able to get the man out of him. It took all of the power in his legs to scurry off of the bed and to his backpack to get to his phone but he managed to get there in time for the last ring. He steadied his breath enough to answer, "Hey, man, what's up?"

Gerard tucked himself back in his pants and proceeded to lay on the bed for a moment listening to the conversation, still stunned that he had let himself get so caught up in sex that he couldn't realize that his partner was telling him to stop.

"No, I'm at a gym," Ryan lied. "If I can get a shower I can be in there in like an hour."

The older man sat up to watch the boy, mostly the sympathetic wide-eyed look back at him. How could let himself get so low to this point here? He was fucking a barely legal teenager. He was blindly ignoring the boy's requests because his own selfish desires blinded him. "I'm sorry," he apologized when the phone was hung up. "I should have realized what you were doing."

"Well," Ryan shook his head as he tried to comfort the older man. "That just means I'm a really good fuck." He smiled back, still one of those sympathetic smiles that were more for Gerard's benefit than it was for the boy. "I was also kind of mumbling, don't feel bad."

"No, I should feel bad, I should listen to you more," Gerard started mumbling on his own while he was thinking back to all of the other times he had blindly ignored someone because he was getting off. "So you gotta go?" the older man connected the dots.

"Yeah, there's a producer who wants to hear us." He shut his phone with a loud clack. "I texted Spencer to get my stuff so I can be there as soon as possible, but they think I'm in the city. So we can finish if you want."

"Ryan baby, I feel so bad," Gerard grumbled into his hands. How was the boy this okay with him just blindly ignoring the protests?

"We can finish in the shower." That's how.

"Okay, maybe," the older man agreed. In a spur of short movements, Ryan had pulled him off the bed with just a pull on the wrist and then into the bathroom, and then they both pulled on their clothes until they were making out, naked, under the hot water. Gerard groaned into the boy's neck, "Should I have brought the lube?"

"Maybe," the boy groaned back as he was running his hands over Gerard's chest. "God, you're so big. How'd I get so lucky?"

"It's just cuz you're small," he tried to tell the boy before forcing Ryan up against the bathroom wall, stomach first. "Last time to ask for lube."

"I'm fine," the boy argued.

"You didn't have a lot earlier. And who knows what's washed off so far," he started to whisper into Ryan's ear. "You really want to take me dry?"

This time the moan that erupted out of the teenager's throat was deep-rooted. If it wouldn't hurt so bad later or if he didn't have to go perform later with his band, he would have completely submitted to that request; eagerly begging. But for now, he needed to play it safe. "No Daddy. I changed my mind. Get some more, please."

He quickly made his way out of the shower, almost slipping on the fake tile, to the bedroom and back as fast as he could just to bring that overpriced cheap smelling lube that the boy desired so badly. It didn't take long for Gerard to get some lube on his fingers, plunge those fingers back into Ryan's little squirmy body, and get his own cock ready to play. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Ryan answered enthusiastically with frantic nods. He was quickly jerked around to face his partner with wrists pulled up over his head in one fail swoop.

"Your job is to take what is given to you," Gerard growled lowly in the boy's ear. "I will hold you up and I will plow into you. All you have to do is take Daddy's cock, do you understand?"

If the gasp in response wasn't loud and shaky, Gerard would have repeated himself. But Ryan squirmed a bit underneath the grip on his wrists before finally agreeing, "Yessir."

Gerard had let go of one of the wrists just to make sure he was position before slowly pushing in, coaxing a loud moan out of the boy in the process. He set off nice and slow, gradually speeding up when he felt the boy start to buck back. "I said for you to stay still."

"Daddy please..." Ryan kept bucking back until a slap on the ass told him to stop.

"Stay. Still."

"Yessir~..." he moaned back. He was getting exactly what he wanted, but getting to that point was going to be hard for him if he couldn't keep being a good little boy.

"Hold onto me," Gerard ordered. With two little hands holding tightly onto one another on the back of his neck, he proceeded to take hold of Ryan's skinny little thighs and start a fast and furious pace. This was one of his bucket list moments that he had wanted for what felt like forever, but he wasn't going to last long. He was slicked up, Ryan felt amazing, and the water running down his back was just an extra factor to his fantasy.

And Ryan was making it worth it. His little body was backing up with every thrust, even though he was told not to, and it was almost sucking the orgasm out of Gerard faster than he wanted to. He wanted this to last. But that wasn't happening.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna..." Gerard couldn't even get the words out in time before his knees buckled and he fell onto the shower floor. Ryan's ass fell onto the floor as well but the two of them both came hard while the older man was severely grateful that the condom stayed in place enough for him to not cum in the poor boy. But the teenager wasn't even paying attention; he was too busy dealing with his orgasm to give a shit about Gerard.

Ryan's legs were splayed apart with his hand furiously moving up and down on his own cock until he spilled over his knuckles. His little face was a mess; lips parted, face reddened, eyes twisted shut, and his mouth wouldn't stop uttering out, "Thank you, Daddy."

Gerard was too busy checking on the state of his cock and the condom, even with his orgasm starting to die off in his system. Once he deemed everything was fine, he felt two skinny arms wrap around his neck and it snapped him back into reality.

The buck ass naked reality that he was still in his shower with a barely legal teenage boy who liked to call him "Daddy."

It made him feel dirty and being in a shower didn't help that feeling even though it should. "We need to get you cleaned up, don't we?" Gerard finally asked.

All he got was a weak nod but it was enough for him to go to work. With both of them on shaky feet, he managed to get Ryan to stand up long enough to lean against the shower wall and then he started washing the two of them. Gerard took care of the teen first, washing his hair first and then switching over to body wash, before cleaning himself. It felt like he was on autopilot. He was still doing all of this but none of it felt real.

Even out of the shower it didn't feel real. Sure, the air hitting his wet body felt real enough to make him shiver but everything else felt... staticky. It was such a strange sensation. Gerard couldn't place what on earth could have made him feel this way, because it couldn't be the sex (he's had that plenty of time to know it couldn't be the after-effects of an orgasm) and it couldn't be Ryan (they'd been with each other for a little while now, he would have known before then).

When he was drying Ryan's hair he felt the boy's hand grab at his wrists and he almost jumped; being on autopilot really let his mind wander. "I know this is a lot, but can you give a ride?"

"Yeah," Gerard agreed. "No problem."

"This might be our last time," Ryan said solemnly.

"I know," he agreed again. Even though they had talked about it last night, nothing changed that morning. Gerard couldn't get over his ex. Ryan still had issues to work out with his band.

And now he had to go to spend time with that band. "I'm gonna go get dressed and pack."

"Yeah," Gerard said, still on autopilot. "Same."

~~~~~

He needed to drive a little upstate. It wasn't too far but it was still worth having someone drive as opposed to taking the bus. The stop was an office building with boring gray brick walls and tinted windows like it held secrets that no one could ever see.

"Is this it?" Gerard asked, puzzled as to how this could be a studio or an office for a music executive.

"Yeah!" Ryan answered, barely able to contain himself. He was giddy and nearly jumping out of his seat. It seemed to happen almost instantly. "There's someone in there who can sign us. If we do, it's all uphill from here. My life as a musician can finally start."

"Yeah," the older man agreed. He didn't want to get involved with this, but he also wasn't going to stand in the way. He didn't want to date someone he barely knew while they were on tour, but he also didn't want to go on tour with Ryan. He had too much going on in New Jersey to leave.

"I gotta go," the boy said as he undid his seatbelt. He grabbed his bag from the backseat and brought it with him as he opened the door. The window was still down, so he stretched an arm into the car to reach for Gerard's hand.

He gladly gave it to the boy, this was it for them anyways. "Bye, Ryan."

The boy ran his fingers across Gerard's knuckles before pulling away. "Bye, Daddy."

Gerard watched as the boy walked away, presumably out of his life forever, and into the building to start a career. He shuddered for a moment as he gave the dilemma of running away with Ryan a second thought. But that's all he was giving it before he drove away, to drown his sorrows away in whatever he could get his hands on at that time of day. Which if he could get a hold of Jimmy, meant a little of everything.

~~~~~

"No no no no no!" Jimmy shot across the room to make his argument. "You are not going back to New Jersey to try and get this boy back."

Maybe inviting his old friends over to his place before he left for the next few weeks was a bad idea. "I'm not trying to get him back. Plus we're currently sitting in New Jersey."

"You say that," Jenn mentioned over her med school notes. "But if you get to talk to him, wouldn't you?"

"Well things didn't work out with my little fuck buddy," Gerard grumbled. Ryan was going to leave with his band and he wanted to leave with a clean slate, which in turn meant leaving Gerard in the dust. "So why not?"

"Because fuck him!" Jimmy snapped again, throwing himself onto the couch right next to Gerard. "Why would you want to go back to that?"

"Because he brought out a lot of good in me when I was with him," he snapped back. "I wish I didn't end things the way I did, but I can't take it back, I can just try to fix it."

No one seemed to have a good enough answer back, so they all just tried to change the subject. Mostly from Gerard's ex-boyfriend to Jenn's new girlfriend. "Yeah," she added to the conversation. "I kinda texted her the address so she could meet up with us."

"Why?" Gerard questioned aloud. This was his apartment. It might have been their booze, pills, and company but it was still his place.

"Chill out." Jenn rolled her eyes at the man. "You'll like her. She was an art school grad, too."

"Again, this is my apartment!" Gerard felt like reminding everyone. "None of you live here!"

"And nothing you are partaking in is yours!" Jimmy made a show with his hands about the beer and the little packets of pills. Still didn't stop Gerard from pocketing a plastic baggie with only a few pills left before the night was over.

"Whatever," he just grumbled into his couch while he took two of the little pink ones with a gulp of whatever clear alcohol came out of the skull-shaped glass.

"You ever worry about what that shit is doing to your body?" Jenn asked when she noticed what was going on. "Or even your brain?"

"Nah, see," Gerard started after he put his glass back on the table, under a coaster of course. "The amount of booze I'm drinking counteract the pills I'm taking. In the end, it's alright."

"Sure," she just scoffed and rolled her eyes. If they died while she was around, she was sure to get some lab hours out of it.

There was a knock on the door loud enough to get everyone's attention. All three of the guys had said some form of: "If it's your girlfriend, you gotta get the door!" at the same time, that Jenn had given up and got it herself. Gerard was digging a cigarette out of his last pack when he noticed the mystery girlfriend come in. The group had already greeted her on her way in the door, and she had kissed her girlfriend, took the beer Steve had offered to her and dropped her bag off by the couch when Gerard finally looked up and saw her. He took in all of her features from her short black hair shoved into a beanie to the black tank top and the plaid shirt she had tied around her waist. He did take a careful note of the obscure belt buckle she had going on just in time for her pop the beer open with her belt buckle. He made the mental note that he couldn't tell if he wanted to marry her or be her.

He must have said it out loud because Jimmy hit him in the knee with, "Damn mother fucker, already looking for new tail."

"S-Sorry," he quickly apologized before going back to his cigarette, sticking it in his mouth before stashing the pack in his pocket. In his mind, these pills worked faster than he was used to.

"Well, you know everybody else," Jenn went to introduce people, but really just introduced the host to the newest guest. "But this is Gerard. He owns the place."

"Sup?" he tried to act like he didn't just embarrass himself in his own home.

"Sup?" she replied back, drinking from the bottle as she sat down next to Jenn on the floor.

"So you're just in time for us to tell him all the reasons he shouldn't go to New Jersey," Steve pipped up for the first time in a while.

"You realize we're in Hoboken, right? Whatever, what's wrong with New Jersey this time?" she chuckled. Anyone who knew the group well enough knew how much Jimmy detested the other state.

"This dumbass is going to go back to meet up with an old boyfriend," Jimmy tried explaining, terribly.

"An old love?" the mystery woman asked, suddenly interested in their conversation.

"Kind of," Gerard answered. He didn't want to look over, so he pretended to be preoccupied with the lighting his cigarette.

"Can I take a picture of you?" she asked, nonchalantly.

"What? Why?" He almost choked on the smoke. Where the hell did she get off asking these things?

"Lindsey writes stories on a blog about love in the city," Jenn answered for her girlfriend. "Get a sappy picture and write a few paragraphs about how the person ended up where they were."

"Well my story's a sad one," he protested before taking a long drag from his cigarette.

"Not all of them are happy," Lindsey talked to him again. He looked up at caught her in the eyes. She was staring at him but her eyes were sympathetic like she actually wanted to listen to him, not just hear the noise that came out like the rest of his 'friends' were doing. "I think sometimes my readers like hearing the not-so-happy ones so they can look forward to the good ones, or so they could secretly feel better about themselves. But, I think the people I interview need to get their stories out of their minds, no matter how sad, just to get the closure."

He had his cigarette dying in his hand and he couldn't help but fiddle with it. He did look over at his friends, hoping that they would interject for him so he didn't have to open up to a stranger, but no one said anything. "You all okay with this?"

"Honestly," Jimmy shrugged. "I've never heard the whole story. Might make me change my mind about you going back to Shits-ville."

Gerard locked eyes with her again, hoping she could read his mind and get how he didn't want to tell this. But she stared back, giving him an unwavering gaze. "Sure," he nodded and put his cigarette in the ashtray. "I'll try."

"Okay." She got up quickly and grabbed her backpack to set up her station. She didn't have any cool high-tech equipment but had an old Polaroid and a spiral notebook with a few pens and pencils that were shoved into the bottom pockets of her bag. "I'll start with your name and age."

"Gerard... do you need my last name?" Strangely, he felt the moment start to mirror when he first met Patrick and the boy was so concerned about his name while checking out at the bookstore register. He killed what was remaining of his cigarette and tried to kill his anxiety all at the same time.

"No, it's fine," she waved him off.

"Gerard. Twenty-five," he answered. "About to be twenty-six, which is why this is an issue in the first place."

"Why?" She looked up from her notes.

"I wanted to spend my birthday with my brother, but my ex is still there." Gerard started to fumble with his pack of cigarettes again just so he could avoid eye contact with anyone in the room.

"Okay, let's...let's start from the beginning," she said as she started writing again. "Where did you two meet and how long ago was it?"

He paused, just to think for a moment that maybe he'd get in some serious trouble for talking about his ex like this without the other guy knowing first. But he gave in mostly because she was right about him wanting to get out of his mind. "Last summer, I worked at a bookstore near a college and he was a student. Freshman. Just started. Moved here from out of state. Chicago even."

He looked up, and everyone's eyes were on him, everyone giving him their undivided attention and not a soul interrupting. "Can you not put his information in there?" Gerard asked, pulling out another cigarette, deciding it was probably the best way to get his anxiety out of the way. "He still goes to that school, I don't ruin anything for him."

"I'll leave him as vague as possible," Lindsey reassured the man. "But I think for your sake, you should talk about him. What you loved. What you miss. All the little things."

"Okay," he answered with a shaky breath. His hand was shaking and it didn't know if it was the pills or his nerves. "His name was... is Patrick. And I think..." Gerard licked his lips and focused on the cigarette in his hand just to take his mind off of the situation. "I think I still love him. I've been with people since, well a person since, but my mind always goes back to him."

"We first met back in July at an open mic night that the bookstore was hosting. He sang and he was beautiful. I mean... his voice was beautiful, he was a hot mess," Gerard chuckled, thinking back to how Patrick was dressed like that night. "He always dressed like he didn't have the lights on when picking out his clothes. But his voice. God. It was amazing."

He stopped paying attention to the people in the room and he finally lit up the cigarette and took a deep drag. "He came to New Jersey from Chicago on a scholarship but he really just wanted to get out Chicago because of this ex that treated him like shit. And he had these three friends that came with him, and it was like trying to get with a sorority girl. I swear, they were there every step of the way to test me to make sure I wouldn't do anything to him like that last ex-boyfriend did and I went along with it just because I liked him so much."

"But before it all, he showed up at my job one day and we got to talk for the first time ever, and he was so damn cute. He gave me his number - like wrote it on my hand to make sure I didn't lose it - and then I finally asked him out and we went to this bar that had live music. He just, he really loved music. I can't even hear songs on the radio without thinking of him, which sucks 'cuz it's like every song makes me think of him. He loved old music, like Elvis Costello but he sang to Blink-182 on our first date, which ironically the song was 'First Date.' So no song is off limits for me to not think about him. But God... he was amazing."

He didn't realize he was smiling until he looked at the pseudo-journalist who was smiling back even as she wrote everything down.

"He um..." Gerard smile faded as he concentrated on the floor to figure out his words. "He has this big secret - I can't tell it to you all now, just out of respect - but he was terrified that I wouldn't date him because of it. To me though... it was just another part of him. But I remember dating for a short while and he was terrified I'd leave him because of his baggage getting too heavy and I was terrified he'd leave me because I was a creep. Like I was afraid I wouldn't understand his boundaries or I'd try to push him into things he didn't want to do. Which is kind of what I did."

He paused for a long moment but no one said a word. Except for Lindsey. "What did you do?"

"So I got this job. It wasn't really a job yet, but I had an old classmate hit me up with this idea to pitch a show to Cartoon Network. But before I left to do this thing, I convinced my roommate to get out so Patrick and I could have the place to ourselves. We basically played house. But..." he looked over at the other two men in the room, who were just staring at him. It's almost like they were stunned by the story to say anything sarcastically. "Fuck it, I've heard your guys' sex lives, you can listen to mine for a minute. I had the _greatest_ sex of my life ever that weekend with that boy. Both where you like, fuck each other for the sake getting off and it's raw and animalistic, and then again where you get to be all passionate and slow where your only concern is making the other one feel better. He was fucking amazing."

"But then I fucked up...I left for New York after I ended up getting the job. Obviously, I got it, I mean I see you guys there all the time after work. But, at the time, I thought I could make us work but I had all these voices in my head - like his friends, my friends, even my brother at one point - and all of these people were telling me that I was just starting a new chapter of my life and he wasn't even starting his. He was so young. I started letting the voices get to me. I was this old man creeping on this teenager - legal but still young as hell - and I was going to ruin his life before he even started it."

"So I cut it off. Not immediately like I should have. I waited until I had all of my stuff packed before I just told him. I told him I couldn't get in the way of him making a life for himself. I couldn't keep leading him on like there was something greater, it was ruining his life. We just needed to split ways."

Lindsey asked when the moment got quiet again, "He didn't take it well?"

"Not from what I've heard." Gerard finished his cigarette before crushing it into the ashtray. "My brother still goes there to school. Apparently, Patrick was crushed for a short amount of time and then rebounded. He's with this asshole I used to work with. It was all my fault. It's been a few months now and I keep thinking about how I could have made it work. Like right now, I'm wasting time with old friends but I just as easily could have driven back there and spent the night in his dorm. Or he could have been here for the weekend. And not even every weekend, he's still a college student, but we could have called, texted, fucking computers now will let you video chat each other in real time. And he said all of that before I left. But I didn't listen."

Gerard sighed heavily, "I can't blame anyone but myself. I fucked up. And I can't get him back."

"So you're going to wallow in it?" Lindsey looked up. He realized she was tapping the end of her pen on the notebook and not writing. He had just ranted and raved and she let him, even if the information wasn't worth being put into her story.

"I don't want to," he sighed. "But that's where I'm at right now. If I go, I have the possibility of talking to him. Do I take it?"

"I can't answer that for you," she said very sternly.

"I can't even answer it," he thought aloud and looked back down at his pack of cigarettes. He couldn't think of what the metaphor would be exactly, but he felt like the empty pack was representing his life at the moment. "I can't even think straight. What the hell did I take earlier?"

"Sugar pills," Jenn interrupted voice cutting into the room.

"Wait-what?!" Jimmy was up and starting to argue before Gerard could register what was going on. His living room turned into a courtroom of Jimmy and Steve bitching about how they had been wronged and Jenn standing her ground about how they were her pills, and that's what the boy's get it for assuming it was something good. Regardless of how he was actually feeling, Gerard was drowning in deep thoughts on his couch. He was almost completely gone until he felt someone sit directly next to him.

Lindsey.

He didn't see how she got over to this side of the room so quickly, but he was thankful to have someone else on the sidelines with him while the show was going on. "If it was me," she started. "I'd go. Just to get a chance to talk to him again. Even if he's gone and with someone else, just give yourself the closure."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And while you shouldn't lie to him, don't be terrible. If he's happy, be happy for him. If you love him, you can be happy from afar. At least until you can find your own happiness."

"Just laying out all of my options here," Gerard started to tell her. "What if he's not happy?"

"Then be a good friend," she offered with a coy smile. "It's a good place to start regardless. And acknowledge that things didn't work out with you two. It doesn't have to be a bad ending."

"You should get paid for this," he added, still not entirely all together.

"Sometimes I do," she nodded. "I'll give you my number, so when you go to the college you can call me for an update."

"How do you know I'm going to go?" he asked, melting back into his couch.

"I just know," Lindsey smiled back. "I won't post your story until you come back. I do still want that picture though."

"Sure," he shrugged as he agreed to it.

Between the fight that was still going on, she was able to dodge bodies to grab her camera off of the coffee table. "I'll take one of you by yourself later, but for my own amusement..." She leaned into him and he caught on that it was going to be a group shot. With the camera over their head, they both smiled and Lindsey took the shot. The picture popped out and she shook it a few times before bringing back into view for the two of them.

"Shit," Gerard said when he finally saw himself. He was paler than he used to be. The bags under his eyes were terrible. His hair looked like shit. "I'm fucking..."

"You don't always look like this?" She connected the dots quickly.

"Like a creep, always," he laughed it off as if it made the situation better. "But like I'm dying? Never this bad."

"You'll get better," she rubbed his knee. "You just got to want to do it yourself first. And for yourself, not for that guy."

"Patrick..." he grumbled. "Honestly, I'd clean up for him. Because I'd put him first before myself."

"Any piece of advice I give you tonight that you take to heart, just take this," Lindsey patted his knee while she spoke. "Clean up first, and then worry about him. Then you can really try again."

He nodded but he looked back down at the floor. "Thanks."

She went to rub his back, "I have faith in you. It'll all work out."

Gerard looked up, not at her, but a little further _up_. "Faith is all I have left."

 


	4. I'm trying, to let you know just how much you mean to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Demolition Lovers" by My Chemical Romance

The plan was for him to stay at Mikey's dorm, in his brother's bed because Mikey would "sleep elsewhere" and Gerard didn't even question it. He didn't put any thought into it because in his mind Mikey was just going to take the couch and he figured he'd argue about it when he got there, but in that split second that Gerard decided to just open the door to his brother's dorm when no one came to answer it, he saw in full force that Mikey wasn't going to be _sleeping_ on the couch.

All in one swift movement, Gerard had covered his eyes and dropped his bag into the hall while jerking his whole body around so he couldn't see his baby brother getting plowed by some stranger. "Holy shit!"

Just as quickly as Gerard let himself in, Mikey pulled himself away from the other body and tried to dress both of them while yelling and cursing at his brother. "What the fuck, Gee?! Was it too hard to knock?!"

"I did! And I didn't hear anything, so I figured you were out and I could just drop off my stuff and go do something until you came back," Gerard answered with his hand still over his face while he felt around for the bag he had discarded on the ground.

"Close the fucking door! I don't need anyone else seeing me and Gabe fucking right now!" Mikey continued shouting as he pulled his shirt on and then rearranged his jeans so the shirt could hang over his belt. "Oh my god! We're dressed! Look so you can shut the door!"

After he could confirm it through peeking between the slits of his fingers, Gerard grabbed his bag and then quickly shut the door behind him. Finally being able to see his brother, he could see Mikey was pissed as all get out, which he had every right to be. "Do you want me to go get a hotel or hit up Ray?"

"No, you can still stay here, just - Jesus Christ - fucking knock," Mikey spat out before walking behind the couch and throwing a discarded shirt at the third man out. "I wish this was under better circumstances but, Gerard this is my roommate and boyfriend, Gabe."

"Hi." Once Gabe had his shirt on, he held his hand out to shake his boyfriend's brother's hand, who didn't want to give it up quite yet, mostly because the older man didn't know what it had been doing just a minute or two earlier.

"Hi." Gerard went against his better judgment and shook the extended hand anyways. "So... how long has this been going on?"

"Well uh," Gabe started but then pulled his hand back to run through his short curly hair. "Mikey moved in right before Christmas but he then he left for the holidays and then there was that one drunken makeout thing -"

Mikey cut him off from the other side of the room with a hiss, "Shut up!"

"Oh yeah," he realized his mistake before correcting it. "So... Like three months?"

"Okay," Gerard nodded, trying to accept that this was his brother's boyfriend now. "This is all kind of..."

"Sudden? Wouldn't have been if you had fucking knocked," Mikey snapped back and grabbed the bag out of his older brother's hands. Before Gerard could even argue back about how the door could have been locked, "My room's this way, so you can see where you're sleeping."

Gerard stood next to the taller guy for a second wondering if he should say anything, but if this guy was dating Mikey then he knew enough that Gerard could just run after his brother. Once the door was closed, Gerard had to say something. "What the hell? You're dating a dude?!"

"Congrats, now we both get to come out to mom," Mikey said dryly as he dropped the bag onto his bed. The dorm was very beige, not like the ones Gerard had been in beforehand, but he really didn't want to focus on his ex-boyfriend or the beige blandness of the room while he had just seen his brother getting it on with another guy.

"Mikey, do you even know how to-"

"You want to know how he fucks me? Is that what you're asking?"

It was so blatant, it took Gerard off guard. He had regained composure before adding on with, "I want to make sure you two are being safe is all."

"We get free condoms from the university, he makes me drive across town to get this special lube just for anal, and he never leaves me hanging," Mikey started spitting out the list like a maniac before he paused to grab his glasses off of his desk. "Okay?"

"I meant..." Gerard winced at his words. He didn't want his brother to go through what he went through; getting fucked without prep hurt and it took awhile before it started to feel good and even longer to get off from it. "Are you getting prepped?"

"You mean fingered?" Mikey's words made him wince even more. Every single one of the points his brother would make would put an unfortunate mental image inside Gerard's brain. "Yeah. Like I said, he doesn't leave me hanging."

"Okay," Gerard accepted it as an answer well enough to let it go and move on. "Outside of the bed...dorm room, is he good to you?"

"Takes me out on real dates, said he wanted to meet mom, spends the after parties with me instead of groupies," the younger Way said as he straightened up his desk from school clutter, making room for his brother's stuff.

"Groupies?"

"He sings and plays bass," Mikey said with a shrug.

"Oh." Gerard's mind wandered to that time the two of them went to see the Smashing Pumpkins and Mikey had been put into a daze from D'Arcy's bass playing. It only made sense he'd still be attracted to it just as he was still attracted to singers; Gerard just figured his brother would be playing it instead of dating someone who did... like Gerard had done already with Patrick. But he needed to get his mind off of it so he went back to his brother's boyfriend. "He's in a band?"

"They're called Midtown. They play with Motion City a lot," Mikey added that last part very quickly and it took a second for Gerard to get why. His brother was dating a guy who was in a band that played with Motion City Soundtrack. His ex-boyfriend was dating the lead singer of Motion City Soundtrack. He knew Mikey and Patrick had to see each other a lot because of classes, but he didn't think that the two of them would be dating the singers of two bands that hung around the school.

"Is it still awkward?" Gerard asked, still not saying his ex's name like it was a curse. Like in a fucking Tim Burton film; don't say the character's name too many times or they'll show up and destroy everything.

"Sometimes," Mikey said with a shrug. "I think more for me than for him. He's with Justin now. Pretty hardcore."

"Oh," was all the older man could muster.

"Yeah, they're playing tonight," Mikey added. "Midtown's gonna be playing too. You're welcome to come but, I don't want things to be awkward. Like unnecessarily awkward."

If Justin was playing, then Justin's boyfriend for sure was going to be there.

"I can go; I'll just stay away from the bands and their groupies," Gerard tried to reason.

"And merch tables," Mikey added. "A lot of times, Patrick runs the table for MCS."

"Okay," Gerard sighed. He really didn't want this to happen, let alone right when he got into town. "My fault for coming early huh?"

"No you walking in on us was your fault for coming early," the younger of the two snapped. "A day early doesn't really make or break any of the plans I had anyways."

Plans? Gerard didn't really want to know what his brother really had planned if he had to be honest. "What do you have planned for tonight?"

~~~~~

Gabe's band hung out with not just Motion City Soundtrack, but with Pencey Prep as well. Which meant Frank. And Frank was a force someone needed to be mentally prepared for.

"What the fuck?!" Frank yelled at the top of his lungs when he saw Gerard come into the bar behind the members of Midtown. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

"Hoboken," the older man replied and then dropped off one of the merch boxes at the table where Mikey was. "I'm just in for a few weeks. The Breakfast Monkey team is getting a short break. Figured I'd spend it with my brother."

"Well come here, you rich piece of shit!" the small man beckoned the other one into a hug. "God, I've missed seeing you around man. You missed my fucking birthday, too!"

"I'll make it up to you one day, okay?" Gerard laughed. "So how long has this been going on? You in another band now?"

"Yep!" Frank chuckled as he let the other man go. "This one is gonna last forever. Trust me."

"Remember me when you get to the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame."

It started to feel like old times; Frank doing stupid shit, alcohol getting passed around, discussions about music and musicians and then debates over people's tastes in music. Then Motion City showed up. And their merch boy was following close behind. Justin was the first one to show up and Gerard heard him from afar and sped back to the Midtown table before he could be seen.

Gerard was pretty well hidden behind the table and three boxes of shirts arranged by sizes, so Patrick didn't even notice him at first if at all. Hell, Gerard didn't even notice at first since his head was buried deep in his phone but his brother saw Patrick come in first. Mikey tried to keep some distance between the old couple, especially since the show hadn't even started. When the two merch guys started talking, Mikey quickly moved the chair and a random shirt for sale to fully cover his brother. "Hey, Mikey!"

"Hey, Patrick!" As soon as Gerard heard his brother talking, he knew not to say anything.

"Expecting a crowd this time? That's more boxes than usual," the smaller teen noticed how they had more boxes than last time, as well as every time before that. Typically they had a good sized box for shirts and a smaller one just filled with CDs that were made in the library of the college, so three just for shirts was a good night.

"No, we just got the new designs in earlier this week," Mikey told him. "Just wanted to show them off. Maybe get some of that old bar smell on them."

"I wanna see," Patrick said and leaned against the table. "These are the ones Pete helped with right?"

"Yeah!" Mikey answered. Gerard was very still while his brother grabbed a shirt from the box next to him. "Ah shit," he grumbled when he realized it was an older shirt and not one of the newer ones.

"What about that one?" Patrick pointed at the one that was perfectly hiding Gerard behind the chair. Secretly the older man was delighted to hear Patrick, but the teenager didn't need to know that he was there. Mikey ignored the teen and worked around it to pull another out to give away.

"Here, this should be your size." Mikey passed it over to the teen who pulled it to his chest to check the fit before laying it flat on the table. "Just take it. Maybe wear it one night your boyfriend ain't playing."

"Or I can get you one of Motion City's shirts and we can support each other's boyfriends," Patrick offered and smiled.

Gerard heard it clear as day and he died inside. He didn't want to hear that Patrick was happy. He didn't want to hear that the boy had moved on. He didn't want to know how much better the boy was with him out of the picture.

"I don't want Frank to lose his shit about me not supporting Pencey Prep, but... I'm a size small if Justin lets you give one away," Mikey smarted off.

"Josh is the one I got to worry about, he'll actually tell me how much money they'd lose, profit margins and all," Patrick laughed again. "But I'll catch you later. You hanging with the bands after the show?"

"No," Mikey started his lie. "Gabe and I have plans for later."

"Alright, well, catch you later," the young boy said with a wave and walked away.

Mikey waited until Patrick was out of sight before dropping to his knees and talking to his brother. "You okay?"

"I don't think I can do this anymore Mikey," the older man shuddered. "It's not that far, I can just walk right?"

"It's like six miles and I know you don't know the way back," his brother told him. "But I don't want you hiding here all night either. Maybe just go get something from the bar for a minute?"

Yeah. A drink. That would make things a little easier. Maybe not with his word placement or finding his voice, but a drink or two should at least make the night go by faster. After seeing if his brother wanted anything, Gerard carefully got up and snuck around the table to find the bar.

It was still early in the night and there wasn't a lot of people there for the show yet, except for a slowly growing group of people between a table and the bar. Frank actually had a bit of a fan club going on, which was slightly shocking for Gerard to see in person. Girls, like actual fan girls, were around the table asking where to find him. He couldn't even believe his eyes. Gerard got to the bar and let his thoughts come out aloud, "Never thought I'd see the day when Frank had women fighting to see him."

"I know, right?" A guy about his age walked up to the bar behind him and leaned against the bar next to Gerard. He offered a hand over to Gerard and introduced himself, "Josh Cain."

"Gerard Way," he said back and shook the hand briefly before dropping it. "You with one of the bands?"

"Yeah," the other man admitted. "You too? You're too early to be here for the shows."

"My brother invited me; he's the merch guy for Midtown," Gerard explained.

"Ah, I know Mikey. I also know how he can disappear with Gabe in the middle of the night." Before Gerard could comprehend what his brother could be doing, Josh motioned a bartender over, before asking, "I can put you on our tab for the night. What 'cha drinking?"

"Nah man," Gerard told the other man. "I'll be alright."

"Nah, I insist." Josh had an amazing charm about him as he ordered two drinks and then beckoned Gerard to follow him backstage. It wasn't until then that it had hit Gerard that he had heard Josh's name already that night, from Patrick. He was standing there with half of Motion City Soundtrack in the backstage lounge before he realized what he had done. If it wasn't for the giant wall scroll (which they had made up just for when they played live, and so god help him, Gerard remembered having to help Justin order it when they worked together) hanging up for their opening act performance, Gerard might have never known who they were. Justin wasn't there but it didn't make it any easier.

"I don't... I don't think I'm supposed to be here," Gerard announced when he realized who was around him.

"Why?" Josh questioned and shot him a confused look. "I invited you. Don't worry about the bouncers and shit. We'll just say you're with us. Hell, Justin's boyfriend hangs out with us back here all the time."

"I know," he said solemnly. "He's my ex. I need to leave before he shows up."

"Oh shit," the other man suddenly caught on. "You're _that_ Gerard."

"Okay, honestly, how many other Gerard's do you know?" he sassed back. "Here let me just go. Thanks for the drink though. I can grab some cash to pay you back..."

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Josh told him. "Seriously, no big deal. You can hang out next time 'Trick's not around."

"Yeah, might take you up on that," he replied on his way out. Might be nice if Josh wasn't in a band with Justin. Might be nice for Gerard to be around people his own age with similar interests who weren't coworkers.

But tonight he had to pass. He turned out of the door and tried to find his way back towards the entrance. He was making his way back to Mikey through memory when he collided with Motion City Soundtrack's table. And their merch boy.

Instead of saying anything the two of them just stared like deer in headlights at each other. Patrick himself was at a loss for words. Out of all the people to pop up, why did it have to be _him?_

"Hi," was all Gerard managed when he gathered up the courage to say something. Patrick still looked the same way he had remembered the boy looking.

Patrick didn't have his glasses on, but he was wearing that old record shop hat with the blue and black polo that matched his eyes. And it took everything Gerard had not to lose it with the boy in front of him.

"What... what are you doing here?" Patrick almost growled. He was almost done being sad over the breakup and here was his ex-boyfriend back in his face.

"I got out of work for most of the month," the older man admitted. "Figured I'd spend it with my brother."

"No, here, what are you doing _here?"_ When Gerard couldn't answer him fast enough he pressed on with more questions. "What are you doing here, at this bar, tonight, when I'm working for my boyfriend's band?"

"Mikey invited me, I don't think he knew you'd be here," Gerard tried to express.

"Bullshit, Mikey knew," Patrick hissed. Of course, Mikey knew. They always knew when the bands were playing, and who they were playing with, and whether or not the other merch boy was going to be there. "Why did he do this to me?"

Patrick retreated back behind the table; maybe he could just go back to work and the other man would get the hint and leave. Out of his life. Forever.

"Your voice is deeper," Gerard commented. He thought for a minute that maybe if they talked, it would help him repair some of the bad energy he left behind. And it was just the two of them at the moment with the door closed, so he could be open.

"Yeah, it helps with passing a lot better," the boy shot back while folding shirts on the table.

"Does Justin know?" Maybe if he showed some concern for Patrick's well being, it would show that he still cared. Technically, it would take a lot for Gerard to stop caring. Just because they weren't together anymore didn't mean he hated the teen.

"Of course he knows." Patrick looked up and shot him a dirty look. That was probably not the best thing to say to the teenager. They were almost like fighting words. "It's none of your business anyways."

"I know, but I'm just worried about you." The older man's gaze went to the floor. He was running out of words for the boy.

"You hypocrite," Patrick practically growled through his teeth. "You don't get to be worried about me."

"I'm not here to try to fix anything, Patrick." Gerard looked up. He looked pitiful and he knew it. It wasn't going to help him but at least Gerard knew it. "I know I've made mistakes that I can't fix but I can still worry about you."

The boy looked like he was trying to come up with a good response to snap back with but he couldn't. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that," Gerard chuckled a bit against his better judgment. "I just want to make sure you're okay. The first step to a friendship, I guess."

"I don't think we can ever be friends," Patrick said bluntly. "It hurt. It still hurts."

"I'm sorry." Gerard's eyes went right back to the ground. It still hurt from his side too. He couldn't apologize enough, but at least this was a start. "I never think anything all the way through."

"I know," the boy replied almost sympathetically. It seemed like they were getting somewhere. Even if this conversation ended, it wasn't ending on a totally dead note.

"Hey!" Justin popped up in time to stand between the two, putting his arm around Patrick's waist. "What's up, man? I didn't know you were back in town. What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing, just catching up," Gerard lied. He knew his time was up; there was no way he could keep talking to his ex with Justin standing there. "I'm just back for a few weeks. Figured I'd spend my time off with my brother."

"Yeah?" Justin buried his nose in his boyfriend's shoulder while giving the other man a death glare. This wasn't the 'this is my man' look, this was the 'you hurt him and I'm not letting you do it again' look and it shook Gerard to his core. He never saw that side from Justin and he didn't want to find out what would happen if he got on the other man's bad side.

"Yeah, but we're done so... catch you guys later," Gerard said as he walked away.

"Yeah, see ya man." It took a moment for either of them to do anything. They were both waiting for the other man to disappear, and Justin kept a sharp eye on every movement Gerard was making. Justin kept his tight grip on Patrick until the other man was completely out of sight. When he loosened his arms, he urged Patrick to turn around so he could see the boy's face. "You okay?"

"I will be."

"I can't leave, but baby if you need-"

"I'll be fine," Patrick sighed and cupped his boyfriend's face in his hands to smile sweetly back. "I promise."

"I've got my phone on me," Justin said with a smile. "Shoot me a message or call me. And I'll be here as soon as I can."

"Okay," the teen said with a weak smile. "I'll be alright."

Justin gave him a kiss on his forehead, something that the older man did just to make the teen feel better, before running back towards the stage. Once he was alone again, Patrick went back to folding shirts. He got a little rough with the first one he picked up, folding it aggressively before tossing it back into the box. And then the next one. And the next one... until they were all getting angrily folded.

"Why...?" he asked aloud, even though there was no one there to answer. "Why did you have to come back? And why _now?!"_

~~~~~

Gerard spent the rest of the night hiding behind the Midtown merchandise table. Mikey would occasionally check on him, but for the most part, he hid away and played on his phone. Spending five bucks on Tetris for his flip phone didn't seem like a bad idea now.

Until Motion City had a song that played that struck a nerve with him. He heard Justin introduce it as, "So this one was actually written with the help of that sweet piece of arm candy you guys see me bringing to shows."

A little bit of laughter ensued by the crowd, which was enough of a pause for Gerard to stand up and watch the stage.

"You know I love you 'Tricky," Justin joked before continuing on. "No, the two of us have had some pretty bad relationships and bad breakups, so even if we didn't end dating each other, I'm really glad and ever-so-fortunate to make this song with you."

The crazy-haired man stopped for a moment, just to blow a double-handed kiss towards his boyfriend in the back of the bar. Gerard turned his head right in time to see Patrick standing alone in merch booth, take that blown kiss to his heart with a smile. These two were going to make Gerard sick.

"So anyway, here's our new track off of the album that ain't out yet!" the lead singer announced before going back to the song. The same Josh that had bought Gerard a drink was playing guitar in the background with another guy playing on a synthesizer to start the song. It sounded a bit dramatic and kind of dreary compared to the other songs Gerard remembered from their demo album of three songs; so if Justin didn't already have Gerard's attention, he did now.

"I got the message long before you said you knew. There was no chance of us at all..." Justin finally sang into the mic. It may have taken a moment for the words to make sense in Gerard's brain, but when they did, his heart dropped into his stomach. This was going to be about him.

"With no velocity and empty-headed hard and far too long. I spent two years alone with you," Justin finished the intro with a nice low note.

Gerard didn't want to at first, but he looked over at Patrick just to see the boy looking back at him while lip-syncing the next lyrics. If looks could kill. "Just when I thought I had forgotten. You came back soft without a sound."

If it wasn't for Mikey standing there, Gerard would have just fallen to the ground and covered his face, but he wanted to seem strong, even if it was fake. He missed a good chunk of lyrics while trying to catch his composure but caught on in time for, a part that left him devastated.

"You hit the road and left me an ocean," Justin belted out like it was his last words. "I can't swim in the silence of your skin-skin! Please let me in!"

At that point, Gerard's knees went out and he wanted nothing to do with this night anymore. Mikey knelt down next to him for a moment before he opened up his phone and showed off the game he was playing earlier. He'd rather keep himself entertained and ignore every single thing going on around him at the moment. Hiding from the literal manifestations of his problems was the safest thing for him to do at the moment.

Let alone the rest of the night.

By the time the last band was off the stage, he decided to stop hiding long enough to help his brother and the band pack up. The faster he could get out of here and away from his ex, the better. He was bringing one of the boxes back to Mikey's car when Patrick popped up again. This time Gerard purposely hid in the backseat of Mikey's car so he could hear the conversation. Luckily all of the windows were down because of the heat; no one would want to steal anything from Mikey's car anyway, being as shitty as it was.

"Mikeyway, can we talk? Like one on one for a minute before I have to go back?" the teenager asked as he stood at the edge of the concrete back entrance, arms crossed over his chest.

"Yeah, give me a second." Mikey brushed his hands clean off of his jeans and made his way over to Patrick. Gerard could barely hear them at that point.

"You could have told me he was here," Patrick told the younger Way.

"I know," Mikey sighed. "I didn't think he'd go backstage, to be honest, plus figured I could hide him. Like, I get I'm your friend but I'm also his brother. He comes first."

The teenager shook his head in disbelief. "I get that... but you still could have told me."

"Would you have stayed?" the taller man asked.

"What?" Patrick questioned in disbelief.

"Would you have stayed? For the whole night?" Mikey repeated. "If I told you?"

"Doesn't matter. Still my decision. You and him both need to realize that I can make my own decisions," Patrick snapped back. "Next time. Tell me. Please."

"Got it," Mikey murmured. "Won't happen again. He's not in town for that long anyway."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Patrick told him as he walked back into the bar. "Catch you later. Maybe when he's not in town."

It took a moment because he stood there trying to collect his thoughts, but when Mikey eventually turned back around to head towards his car he caught Gerard's head ducking back behind the box in the backseat. He paused, took a deep breath, and then remembered this was his goofball brother he was dealing with. "He's back in the bar. He gets drunk with Justin after all the shows."

"Okay, but..." Gerard sat up and then pulled himself out of the back seat and up to lean against the now closed car door. Belly flopping onto the floor of the car to keep from being seen was a terrible idea. "I put you in a bad spot with him. Sorry Mikes."

"Not even," his younger brother reassured him. "I've seen him pissed off at people for stupid shit. He'll be mad for a while but he won't be so mad that he'll stop talking to me."

"I'm still... sorry," Gerard muttered. "I didn't think it would still hurt. But damn. Maybe you all can bad mouth me when I'm gone between classes."

"I don't see him in class anymore," Mikey said dryly. "He stopped going."

"... what?"

Gerard couldn't believe it even as he heard it. And it got worse as Mikey kept talking. "He was drinking a lot around Christmas. Most of his friends went back home for the holidays and he got left behind. With Pete gone, he couldn't buy booze until Justin popped up. Ever since then, his whole life has just been about 'living life to its fullest.' Which apparently means drinking cheap champagne, eating fast food fried chicken, and not going to class. I wouldn't be surprised if he got kicked out of the marching band and lost his scholarship, to be honest."

"All... all because we broke up? Because I dumped him? Because I was such an asshole...?" Gerard tried piecing it together.

Mikey sighed and looked up at the sky; they were too far into town to see any of the stars but the city lights off in the distance were a good enough substitute. "I don't think it was you exactly. I think being alone was the trigger on the gun that made him lose it. His friends leaving him made it worse, to the point where he tried to fix it on his own. And now it's bad, but no one wants to say anything because we don't want it to get worse, so we just ignore the elephant in the room."

"If there is a 'worse,'" Gerard commented from his point of view. It was heartbreaking to see it on his side even though he was doing the same shit to himself on a much grander scale.

"You want to go back to the dorms?" Mikey offered in an attempt to get them out of the parking lot.

"Maybe. There's also a part of me that wants to get shit faced and pretend tonight never happened," the older of the two groaned.

"I've got booze back at my place."

"Very tempting."

"Let me go and tell Gabe," Mikey said as he walked away. He was the ride for both his older brother and his boyfriend so it made sense he had to get a hold of the musician before they left.

But that left Gerard alone. And all alone sitting next to the car, looking up at the city lights his brother was just staring at was putting him in a mood he didn't want to be in. Those lights definitely weren't stars but he wished on them anyways.

"Even if he can't be with me," he silently prayed. "Please just make sure he's okay. I just want him to be okay. Can we at least do that?"

~~~~~

The whole ride back, Gerard quietly stared off into space at the cars and buildings they passed. Gabe and Mikey were too engrossed in their own conversations to even mind what was going on behind them and it didn't phase the older man in the slightest.

"Yeah like I could be in a band," Mikey joked and then quickly looked back at his brother. "You'd sing and maybe we could get Frank or Ray to join in."

"Huh? Oh yeah sure," Gerard blindly agreed, thinking it was just for making plans while they were out.

"You okay man?" Mikey tried to ask, realizing his brother wasn't getting the joke.

"I'm just... tired," he lied. He missed Patrick sure, and a small part of him really wanted to see Patrick in a worse off place because they weren't together anymore. But never, never in a million years, would have wanted Patrick to be like that. And Gerard couldn't fix that.

"Well, we're almost back," Mikey tried to tell him. "You can crash when we get home."

"Not that kind of tired Mikes," Gerard said solemnly.

"I know man," his brother told him. "I can't fix everything but I can try with at least one thing, okay?"

Once they were back in the dorm, they talked about everything but relationships.

Movies.

Bands.

Books.

Comics.

It was nice. For once it wasn't about him and Patrick anymore. They didn't talk about it once. Until Gabe didn't catch the memo.

"So do you have a special someone up there in Hoboken?"

Gerard didn't want to answer, even with three drinks in his system. Mikey slapped his boyfriend's leg to silence the skinnier man, but Gerard made a comment regardless. "I had a friend with benefits right before I left for the month. He was a musician and the band had gotten signed a week before I was going to leave so... I'm extra lonely this April."

"Oh," Gabe realized his mistake.

"Oh, shit, Gee," Mikey tried to reassure the older man. "I didn't know you had someone."

"Kind of. Someone who wasn't that big of a deal," he sighed as he tried to lie to himself aloud. "He was just this good for nothing... I don't know."

"Was it bad?" Mikey asked, probably asking about the breakup in particular, but it could have been about any part of the relationship too.

"It was nice to have someone there to spend time with and share a bed with someone, but... it's not the same as when you actually like them for more than just their body," Gerard tried to explain with his eyes fixated on the floor.

It was hard not to think about what he used to have; it was heartbreaking when he really thought about it. He didn't have it anymore. He wanted it so bad. Even if it was just a sliver of what he used to have.

"I want someone," he said quietly. "Someone to spend my nights with. Wake up with. Spend my days with. Spend my days wanting to be with them while I'm working. Go to bed every night with that one person. I thought there'd be a better chance of me finding that person because of my sexuality but..." Gerard trailed off while he deep in his own thoughts. "I just hope to find someone at this point. Everyone has to have that person, right? There has to be someone out there in this world who wants to next you every night... right?"

"You'll find them one day," Mikey tried to reassure his older brother. "You've got to. Everyone has that person, you just got to find them."

"What if I already did? What do you do if you fuck up the only chance you had with that person?"

"Pray for a second chance and act right when it happens," his brother offered.

It was really hard to take the advice when Mikey was practically sitting on Gabe's lap. His brother was in a good place. His brother had what he wanted. Even if it was temporary.

"I know man," he sighed.

It wasn't long after that before Gerard tried to pass out in his brother's dorm room. He was tired. This trip wasn't supposed to be this exhausting. He wasn't supposed to run into Patrick and unearth all of these dead feelings. He wasn't supposed to be putting his heart on his sleeve to his brother and this new boyfriend. None of this was supposed to happen.

And this was day one.

He still had about two and a half weeks left.

"Oh god no, Gabe stop." He could hear them through the walls. It made sense because the only thing between the two rooms was the tiny kitchen but he still didn't want to hear his brother having sex before he could bleach his brain of the mental image from that morning that had been permanently stained there.

"I want to finish what we started this morning," Gabe purred back and it worked, because after a moment or two of silence, Mikey Way was a moaning mess. Gerard just took a hold of the pillow and held it over his ears the tightest he could get. He was convinced he couldn't hear anything else until he heard Gabe giving orders. "Put your hands up there, yeah like that."

Gerard angrily threw the pillow at the adjoining wall and then covered his ears with his hands.

This was working out to be the best birthday ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the chapter titles have changed so that they are either from "G.I.N.A.S.F.S." by Fall Out Boy or "Demolition Lovers" by My Chemical Romance. Also, forgot to add the first time around, but the song Motion City Soundtrack plays is "My Favorite Accident."


	5. To drive on through the night, If it's a drive back home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from G.I.N.A.S.F.S. by Fall Out Boy.

Patrick stormed back into the bar, mostly to get away from Mikey, but also to get closer to his boyfriend. He knew it wasn't deep, but he enjoyed these last few months. It was fun, there wasn't a huge cloud of commitment looming over him, Justin himself had a bunch of perks being the lead singer of a band, and more than anything, Patrick got to pretend that the world wasn’t falling around him. If beer goggles could make anyone hotter, then Vodka goggles made a rose-tinted world. 

The teenager was intercepted by the lead guitarist before he could make it to the bar. "Justin's talking to a producer," Josh told him. "I saw you talking to Mikey - I get it - but I can't let you run up on him right now."

"Is it Pieball?" Patrick sassed. "We all know Pieball don't amount to shit."

"You don't know," Josh explained. "We could get our record to go somewhere."

"Honestly," the teenager informed the older man. "The only place Eyeball Records is going into its own grave. The best thing for Motion City would be to go back Minnesota and take up the Epipath offer."

"You know about that?" The guitarist was shocked. Only the band knew about the offer they had been given. Justin had taken all of a paycheck to mail out their unfinished album to several companies across the country. What the rest of the band didn't know was that each of the CDs had been decorated with the band's name and the song titles written in different color sharpies in Patrick's handwriting. Justin took the task upon himself to make the little paper cases look good for the band's demo album, but Patrick took it upon himself to help his boyfriend.

"I know a lot," Patrick admitted, almost aggressively. "I know you guys went to Pennsylvania for a big break that didn't happen and now you're here in Jersey because it's a good halfway point between New York and Philly. You guys are gonna make it, trust me, it's just not going to be here in Jersey, and it's definitely not going to be with Eyeball Records."

"Pieball's doing good with Pencey Prep," Josh started to argue as Patrick made his way passed the guitarist and towards the bar. "That could be us."

"Pencey's got Frank," the teenager added. "Frank's got a star power that could do well with anyone managing him. He's gonna burn out the rest of that band like a black hole."

"Damn, you're in a mood," Josh mentioned before deciding to let the teenager go. He wasn't going to get bit in the process of trying to keep Patrick away.

"Yep," the teen agreed and bee-lined over to his boyfriend.

Justin was talking up a storm and was using the full gale force of his hands to help with the talking; that left his arms up from his sides and gave Patrick the opportunity to attack in the form of a surprise hug from behind. "And then we were like - hey!" He realized who was grabbing him when he felt the hat brim on his shoulder. "Hey, baby!"

"Hey, Justin," Patrick purred up in his ear. "When's the after party starting?"

"Afterparty?" the tall man asked. Patrick had seen this guy in passing, hell he had even been to the guy's house, but he had never seen Pieball up all close and personal. He was very plain and boring looking for someone with a reputation and the nickname 'Pieball.' With a record label and parties that were legendary within themselves, Patrick had pictured someone who could be a lot more distinguishable amongst a crowd. 

"He means my place," Justin answered.

"I can bring stuff, or I can bring the party to you," Pieball offered.

"Not that kind of afterparty, Alex," the crazy-haired man added.

"Ah!" He seemed to get it. "So this must be that hot piece of ass you were talking about on stage huh?"

"Yeah, my boyfriend actually," Justin said and Patrick tightened his grip firmly around the older man's waist. "It might be time for me to go. See you around Alex."

Justin pulled the short teenager behind to the back door entrance for the bands. All of the bands had their stuff put away with the exception of Motion City; Jesse had space to use at his apartment that Justin didn't, so all of the band's equipment was being placed in the back of his van. The other bands had been gone for awhile. Midtown wasn't there anymore but neither was their merchboy. 

"You okay?" Justin finally asked when he was able to pull the teenager off of him.

"I just want to leave."

"What happened?" the older man demanded. He must have known. He told Patrick not to go talk to either of the Way brothers, but obviously, the teenager did and something had happened in that short period of time that he was left unattended.

"Nothing happened..."

"Patrick!"

"I just...!" The teenager started to open up. "Mikey should have known better."

"So you said something to him?"

"Yeah... I told him he needs to tell me next time."

"Oh god," Justin sighed. "Let's hope there's not a 'next time.'"

"Yeah," Patrick absentmindedly agreed. "Let's hope."

~~~~~

Patrick found himself in another black hole. Justin's apartment was always sucking him in, making it hard to leave. He'd lose track of time, forget he was supposed to be in class, doing homework, hanging out with his friends, and who knows what else.

He had forgotten his shot day once when he was trapped in the black hole. He wasn't going to tell Justin about it. He didn't want to worry his boyfriend about any of his problems. That's what Justin was for: to forget about his issues.

"Feed me," Patrick grumbled into Justin's armpit while they laid about in bed. They'd been up for a while talking endlessly about things that had happened over the last week or so, but he still didn't find the need to get up on his own.

"You know where the kitchen is," the older man told him.

"But you have your glasses on," the teen protested. "And pants."

"No, I don't!" Justin argued. They were both in their underwear but Justin did put his glasses on to turn on the TV at one point. X-Files played as background noise despite how they both liked the show.

"Well you're closer!" he pouted. Eventually, Patrick won.

"Fine! What do you want?" 

"Cereal."

"I don't have almond milk."

"I'll eat it dry."

"So lazy," Justin commented before getting out of bed and going towards the kitchen.

Patrick liked that feeling of a warm bed, even if the other person wasn't in it. The college had given him a twin sized bed for his apartment and that didn't provide him a lot of room for company in the way that Justin's queen size did. There was a lot of things different between this relationship and his last one, but if he dwelled on it for too long, he'd regret where he was now.

"Dinner's served," the older man announced as he came back with a bowl of dry Captain Crunch and a plate that held his sandwich and chips.

"Thank you waiter," Patrick sassed back before he sat up to take the bowl. Didn't stop Justin from blowing a raspberry in Patrick's general direction. 

"Can we change the channel?" Seems as if the last three hours of X-Files had lost their appeal. "We can do cartoons."

Thankfully, Patrick had popped a cereal berry into his mouth, so hopefully, Justin couldn't read his face properly. "Sure."

It wasn't that he liked watching cartoons, he liked watching one cartoon in particular. Despite how he could lose track of time and forget all about his school work and his friends and even his testosterone shot, Patrick had yet to miss an episode of the Breakfast Monkey. Despite how they worked with each other, Justin had no idea who was behind the little squeaky bastard, and even more so, he had no idea who was doing to voice.

"Shit," Justin commented when he realized what was on Cartoon Network. "I hate this little fucker."

Sure enough, there was the monkey, zipping through town with a bright red streak of light behind him, before it stopped before an obvious rip off of Mojo Jojo in a chef's outfit. "Oh no! We need to stop this villain before we get a copyright lawsuit!"

Patrick giggled. He wouldn't admit that he missed his ex, but he loved that his old lover was still doing the voice. The team must not have been able to find someone else to do the voice or they just really liked how well Gerard did it.

"God I hate that little thing," Justin repeated.

"Calm down," Patrick commented between bites. "Billy and Mandy will be on after this."

"That show - I like," the older man admitted. "Irwin's my favorite. Can't ever catch a break."

"Yeah," Patrick blindly agreed. The battle between characters played out quickly. There was a speech given towards the end of the show about being around those who love you, and Patrick agreed with both the TV and his boyfriend. "I know what you mean." The credits started to roll, fast, and just like every time the show came on, Patrick would try to look out for a name under the creators or even under the voice actors. He caught it, both times for once, and it made his heart flutter. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it hit him that the man he loved was making something of himself and all Patrick was doing was eating breakfast cereals for dinner in his underwear. 

Patrick looked down at his bowl of cereal like it was Alphabet soup and it could answer all of his problems. Maybe he was being too hard on his ex, and maybe he could be a little nicer when the two met up again. Then it hit him hard: _when_ the two met up again. Patrick looked over at Justin, hoping that the older man could see into the inner dilemma he was having but all Justin was focused on was his food.

"Yeah..." he repeated solemnly. "Poor kid." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legitimately found this chapter on my computer. It was the only one from the Demolition Lovers that wasn't on my phone. I don't use my computer for more than Photoshop and Illustrator but never realized this chapter was missing until I went looking for it to help me write the second chapter of Alone Together.
> 
> The point of this one was to be a super short chapter that would eventually get attached to another chapter to lengthen that one, but there wasn't one that was told in Patrick's perspective until he was getting dumped. So boom, and all apologies to anyone who hasn't read this yet cuz I just spoiled it.


	6. Things aren't the same anymore, Some nights, they get so bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from “G.I.N.A.S.F.S.” By Fall Out Boy

God did he miss Ray Toro. Frank too, but mostly Ray.

Ray had been his rock the whole time they had lived together, to keep him from making stupid decisions and to convince him to make better choices. So after all of the dumb decisions he had made in the last few months, he needed his rock. Even if it was just for an afternoon, he definitely needed some Ray time.

Ray still lived in their old apartment, just now Christa lived with him and Gerard's old room had been converted into a studio. Mostly it was a computer, a high tech microphone, and all of his instruments, but it was as close to a studio as he could get.

"What do you do to afford this?" Gerard asked while he looked his old room over. He could easily see the still blank squares on the wall that were paler than the rest of the room from where his posters used to be. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had left something behind in the closet, but he wasn’t going to go digging with Ray still standing there.

"I write jingles, mostly for companies to play on the radio," the taller man answered while he straightened up the chords by the computer. "Plus Otter and I are working on crap. We hang out at Eyeball a lot."

"Holy shit how's that?" Otter was this drummer they all knew that was super good friends with Ray. Hell, that's where Ray got the idea to be a guitarist instead of staying as a drummer in the first band he played with and it's paid off. But... Eyeball Records had a reputation for parties that went on too long with people who shouldn't be hanging around one another.

"Well, Pie Ball had a drunken experience that no one can explain," Ray groaned at the thought. "Dude woke up naked, covered in peanut butter, and with a shit ton of police tickets in his shorts."

"How'd he have tickets in his shorts if he was naked?"

"I didn't ask, I just got out of there!" Ray laughed so hard, it was contagious. It was good for Gerard to laugh about something for once, instead of just feeling sorry for himself. Didn't last long though. "How's everything with you?"

"Good, The Breakfast Monkey got picked up by producers from the pilot but it's just getting a short run for now," he tried to keep the subject of work so he could avoid his problems. "If it gets good ratings after that, we'll be signed on to make a full season."

"That's great," Ray said and took the office chair so he could sit across from Gerard on the couch he had in there. "But I meant you man. I've heard things. Mostly from your brother."

"When do you see Mikey?" Gerard quickly changed the subject.

"Eyeball."

"Oh yeah. His boyfriend," Gerard realized.

"Motion City isn't signed with them but it's not stopping that band from showing up when they want," Ray added but then realized how he probably shouldn't be bringing up Justin Pierre's band. "Sorry man."

"I heard he isn't doing well either." He meant Patrick. He shouldn't keep hopping subjects but it was a pretty easy jump to go from the band to their merch boy.

"Well -" Ray paused to lean his arms onto his knees "- let's talk about you."

He paused for awhile trying to think of what to say, but when Gerard finally said something, it was almost caught in his throat. "I really fucked up."

Ray nodded. He wasn't going to talk. He was there to listen, not talk to his friend about his problems. Maybe that's what Gerard needed.

"I burned bridges before I crossed them and now that I'm actually doing this whole New York artist career thing, I can see how easily I could have been doing a long distance relationship with Patrick. But if something happens where this all goes to hell, I can't imagine what would have happened if he had moved in with me. I would have failed, but more importantly, I would have failed him."

"I get that," his friend told him. "Were you hoping to see him now that you're here?"

"Kind of..." Gerard slouched against the couch and played with the loose strings on arm. He started to get lost in thought, mostly from what all he’d been through in the last few weeks. "Did I ever tell you about that group of people I used to hang out with college?"

"No. Did something bad happen?"

"I umm... there was this band - because my whole life seems to revolve around musicians," he joked. "But this band had a lead singer who took an interest with me. He liked that I was an artist with a musical sense but he had drugs, and alcohol, and other connections."

"Holy shit," Ray sighed.

"But I found him again right after I got back into New York, or rather, he found me," Gerard started again. It started out as Steve offering to let him tag along for the night when the whole group wanted to go out and it ended with the lot of them hanging out in Jimmy’s apartment. "And when he found me, so did the drugs, and the alcohol, and the connections."

"Do you think you're abusing them?"

"Sometimes, but it throws me back to when I was first hanging out with that band." He tilted his head back to stare at the same ceiling he used to stare at just last year. It wasn't the same. Nothing was ever the same anymore, no matter how hard he tried to make it that way or imagine that it was. "I used to get wasted with them and then go to class like nothing happened but when I sober in class, I couldn't think about all of the crap going on in the outside world. And now I'm doing it again; I get to ignore every part of the outside world... like my grandmother dying, and bills, and being a single lonely bastard, just because all of my free time is spent with these guys."

"I heard about a boyfriend," Ray added. "I talked to Mikey before you came over. He wanted me to know about some things."

"I had a fuck buddy. But that was another thing I did to ignore the outside world," he groaned. "And he left right before I left, like for good. I wasn't heartbroken or anything but I was left in this state where I didn't know what I should do. If I should stay there and wallow in my pity or take a leap of faith and come back here. Then right before I left I met this woman who convinced me I should come back. Just for a chance, you know?"

"Is that why you're here? For a second chance?"

He thought about it long and hard on his own couch sitting next to Lindsey and he was going through it all again on the couch in Ray's office. "I needed my family. I needed my friends. But... he's a big factor as to why I came back."

Ray had reached over and grabbed his knee just to pat it, but it made Gerard jump since he didn't see it in time. "I'm praying for you man. You need to get better."

"I know," he groaned again. "I don't know how to fix this, but I feel like I have to fix it, you know?"

"Fix yourself first. Always start with yourself," his friend reassured him. "You can't do anything to work for other people if you yourself are a work in progress."

It made sense, but a lot of things that make sense on paper and in theory. But he had to admit it, even if it was only for a moment, that he had a lot of things he had to fix with himself before he could try to work on anything else. "Yeah. I know."

~~~~~

They agreed to go eat lunch with Frank. Gerard had silently prayed the whole way there that he wasn't being driven over to a place he couldn't eat at, but it wasn't until they drove into the parking lot of a diner they used to go to all the time. "Oh thank god."

"Missed it?" Ray asked while he shut the car off.

"Yeah but... it's not some weird fusion shit I've seen a lot of back in the city."

"I can imagine the horrors of avant-garde food," Ray chuckled even if there was an internal eye roll with his comment.

Up at the door was a tiny little man in an oversized striped sweater who was super excited to see them, both of them, together. "Hey!" Frank practically sang to them. The older two greeted him back and started to make their way inside as a group. "You're looking better from the last time I've seen you," Frank commented on Gerard.

His complexion was gaining a little bit of pink, especially across his cheeks, but the bags under his eyes and his greasy black hair were both still works in progress. "Thanks," was all he could say since he knew he still looked as bad as he felt.

Once they were seated and taken care of by a waitress with long clicky acrylic nails (even though they had never met before, Gerard could tell she was from around her and he was so happy to see a Jersey local as opposed to someone who was in New York for a brand new start), Ray and Frank dominated the conversation. Gerard gave the occasional nod of approval or would laugh at a joke but he stayed quiet for the most part. He missed these two and he wanted to take in everything they were doing just to appreciate it all later when he went home.

Frank started showing off a new tattoo.

Ray was talking about moving into a house and how he wants his studio to be in a basement.

Frank commented about something that happened at an Eyeball party.

Ray made fun of Frank's choice of food.

"Eggs aren't vegan, man," the older one said while using his fork to break the yolk of one of one of the eggs on Frank's plate.

"What the fuck?!" Arms were thrown in the air along with packets of sweetener and a pepper shaker. "Dude!"

"Still not vegan," Ray said with a shrug before filling his mouth with a bite off of his own plate.

Gerard, on the other hand, was slightly distracted with his own food. It wasn't take-out or from a vending machine like he had been doing for awhile. And it was chicken. The amazing taste of fried chicken that he hadn't had in a long ass time between work and the laziness of home. He actually moaned when he took the first bite.

That got the attention of the two at the table. When they went quiet, Gerard realized something was wrong and looked up at the other two who were staring back at him like he had grown a second head. "It's really fucking good," he said with his mouth full.

"That's sad," Frank chuckled along with Ray. "When you can't get good fried food in the city that you practically cum over cheap diner chicken."

"Dude!" Ray scolded the young man and hit him with the back of his hand. "We're in public!"

"Hey! I'm not the one moaning over chicken!" Frank snapped back.

Gerard chuckled to himself. God did he miss Ray Toro. Frank too.

~~~~~

Ray offered to drive him "home" but there was nothing for him there. He didn't want to go back to Mikey's dorm; the place was sad and lonely, and boring. So he was doing everything in his power to avoid going back there. Which meant following Frank to his dorm.

"Earth to Gerard, hello?" Frank was trying to get his attention.

"Oh shit," he cursed when he realized he had the short man in his face.

"I can take you home if you need me to man," Frank said before he took a sip from his beer can. "I mean not me exactly but I can get you a ride."

"Nah man," the older man chuckled as he made himself more comfortable on Frank's couch. Or bed. It was technically both as it was just an old ass futon in the middle of a small studio apartment. The walls radiated an old mustard that had since faded into an obnoxious mellow yellow. It was nauseating but it wasn't Mikey's place. "I don't need to go to back. I don't want to go back."

"Mikey can't be that bad," Frank smarted off.

"No it's just... he's got a boyfriend."

"Gabe ain't that bad either."

"No, they just... make me kind of lonely. And that's just sad."

"Well we need to find you a new piece of ass," Frank offered. He leaned into Gerard's personal space until the older man noticed and perched his lips into a kissy face. Until Gerard noticed anyways.

He pushed the younger man away with a playful shove. "What the fuck?!"

"Yeah probably not me," Frank laughed.

"Yeah not for any amount of money," Gerard laughed back.

"We still need to find you somebody," the young man added. "Other than short and musically inclined, what else do you look for?"

Gerard glared at Frank with a side eye glance at that comment. He didn't give too many details to Ray about Ryan, so that was just a low blow about Patrick and nothing else, or possibly a snide remark about himself, given how Frank also had that in common with the other two but was probably about the older man’s ex more than anything else. "I like people who are interesting, not just musicians."

"What about your last one?" Frank teased him before handing Gerard another beer; his last one stayed empty for a little too long. "How was he interesting? Was it because he was a New Yorker?"

"He was from Vegas actually..."

"Awe, see Lady Luck likes you," the younger man teased again but with his fingers digging into the older man's side until they were slapped away.

"He was just... things were weird," Gerard groaned. This was Frank he was talking to. Don't ever tell Frank anything that couldn't be shouted from the rooftops.

"Like latex hoods weird?" Frank asked with a grin.

"Like... spanking him and having him call me 'daddy' weird," Gerard admitted with a groan.

Foot, meet Mouth.

Frank, meet Rooftop.

"That's a thing?!" the younger man shouted with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Ah shit," Gerard realized his mistake.

Frank pulled both of his legs onto the couch and scooted closer to Gerard's bubble, "Was it like one those adult baby things? Did he have a pacifier and make you change him?"

"Jesus! No!" Several bad images ran into Gerard's mind thanks to his tiny-little-perverted friend.

"I need to know, tell me man," Frank begged. "I don't need to get an actual image off of Google, please just tell me!"

"Oh God no!" The older man was trying to hide away inside the arm of the couch as Frank crept up closer and closer. "Don't. Go away."

"I'll let you stay here for the night," the young man offered. "You won't have to go back to Mikey."

That was an offer worth taking, so Gerard shoved his pride down and let it out. "He wore novelty Ninja Turtle underwear that made him look like a kid. I'd put him in time out and spank him if he misbehaved."

Frank was sitting on the edge of his metaphorical seat while invading the personal space of Gerard's actual seat. "Please tell me more."

"God you're so weird," Gerard said while a cold shiver ran down his spine. How on earth could any of this be enjoyable?

"How did you guys do it?" Frank's eyes were the size of saucers and his smile didn't seem to be getting any smaller.

"You're not even into dudes!" the older man suddenly realized. He remembered back in the early days of his relationship with Patrick that the young man had described himself as 'straight as a board' unless he needed to be 'gay for pay.' "What the hell?"

"Kinks and love have a lot in common; they know no gender," Frank explained. "Now please. Just give me an idea of how it all went down."

He tried to weigh out his options: leave now and probably walk in on Mikey and Gabe again or tell Frank all of the dirty little things he did with a barely legal teenage boy he didn't want to relive. "Like uh... normal sex, I guess? He just called me ‘Daddy.’ That was it.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“No, it’s the truth!”

“Sure, just weird sex. I totally believe it.”

“It was! Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Frank pestered on.

Mostly, as he could recall it in his mind. “It was mostly... what we would say to each other. Like, really early on, he told me that our relationship only had room for one cock and that was mine so I had to call his junk everything but a cock.”

That just left Frank speechless. For as long as anything makes him speechless though. “So what did you call it?”

“His...” he grimaced at the thought. This was so embarrassing. “His toy.”

“Toy? Like a ‘toy’ toy?”

“Yeah basically.”

“So he would play with his ‘toy?’”

“More like I would punish him and he couldn’t play with his ‘toy.’”

“Holy shit!” Frank actually covered his mouth after his outburst. Not that it kept him quiet for too long. “I never would have taken you as the dominant type! You’re just so sweet and passive.”

“I’m more of a... uh... versatile... I think?” Gerard tried to form it out. He wasn’t clear about all of the BDSM terminology. Hell, he barely knew any of the gay community terms, so he tried to find one that fit him the best.

“Like a switch?” the young man asked, clearly knowing more about this topic than Gerard was willing to admit and more than he necessarily wanted to know.

“I think so,” he tried to piece it together. “I’ve done a bit of both and find myself enjoying both sides, so I don’t think I could do just one all of the time.”

Frank was nodding along with the conversation as if he knew what all was going on in Gerard’s head. It was at that point that Gerard figured he had lost the younger man entirely.

“There’s not a straight version of that is there?” he asked honestly.

“In the kink world there is,” Frank answered, very matter a factly. “It’s called a switch. You switch between dominant and submissive or top and bottom. Which also have different meanings in the kink world, which I have found out the hard way.”

“Told someone you were a top and it didn’t end well?” Gerard tried to piece together with a smirk.

But then Frank had a very peculiar look on his very as he tried to explain, “No I’m a sub... nothing happened, at least not yet, but I’ve been messaging people and sometimes I get people who are a little headstrong about their label. So far, no unexpected dick pics.”

The older man tried to form his sentencetogether before saying something he might regret. Frank was opening up to him and he didn’t want to ruin it. “Are you straight? Obviously no judgment, but maybe I can help with some things.”

“Yeah cuz I wanna be judged by a dude who played ‘whose your Daddy’ with a fucking teenager!” Frank laughed.

“Hey! I was trying to help!”

The young man got up from the couch while he shook his head. “Fuck this shit. I’m getting the beer and bringing it to you man. Drinking game time.”

Drinking game time. Always sounded like a good time when someone wanted to get rid of their problems. Or at least forget about them for a minute.

“What’s the rules?”

“You pick the movie,” Frank announced while placing the beer carriers onto the table. “I pick the word. Every time they say it in the movie, we drink.”

“Oh that'll be good,” Gerard chuckled. He briefly saw a flash of VHS tapes and then a very familiar image on the front of one. “A New Hope? Hell yeah!”

“Really?” Frank looked at him, eyebrow raised. “You’re gonna go with that?”

It was Star Wars. What on earth could be wrong with Star Wars? How could that be wrong? “Why? What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna pick the word we drink to,” Frank said confidently. “How about ‘Force?’”

“Every time they say 'Force...?'” Oh, this was bad.

“We drink,” Frank said with a huge ass grin. This was really bad.

The young man sat down on his couch with a loud plop as Gerard stared down the twelve dark glass bottles. “I don’t think we’re gonna have enough.”

It was enough for them to get through the first Star Wars, which was surprising. They both expected it to be said a hell of a lot more, so Frank popped in Episode V in a sad attempt to keep them drunk. However, by the fifteenth drink, neither of them were keeping count.

“You know the next one is supposed to be the last one?” Frank slurred together.

The little hamster in Gerard’s brain had to work overtime to process that Frank was talking about the Star Wars movie scheduled to drop next year. Both of them were fanatics who were stalking all of the message boards about the rumors of what was going on within the sets and both of them had gotten into their fair share of nerd fights over their own theories of what they thought should be going on within the realm of Star Wars. “We can only hope it doesn’t. George Lucas isn’t going to let that cash cow die, I’m telling you.”

Frank let out a grunt in agreement. “Cuz where else can they go? Like these guys are gonna have kids and we’re gonna believe all of the problems in the universe are over because they reproduced?”

The older man’s brain was still working through the fog of at least two and a half beers as he tried to form his own theories. “What if Luke’s crotch spawn had to fight Leila’s in a new battle of good versus evil? And it’s ironic because they're cousins.”

Frank let out a giggle spurt that was closely reminiscent of a teenage girl. Gerard turned his head over just in time for the younger of the two to go, “Crotch spawn!”

“Dude! I’m being serious! This could totally happen!” The older man tried getting his thoughts across but Frank was still giggling over the combination that made “crotch spawn,” as he continued to blindly ignore the entire world around him.

Fatigue was starting to set in. Gerard didn’t get over to Ray’s super late that afternoon, nor did lunch run that long, but the day was coming to a close and was taking its toll on him. He was tired. Tired in more ways than one, but tired enough to want to crash on Frank’s couch.

“What time is it?” He wondered aloud.

“Late...” Frank piped in after he calmed down quite a bit. He was still chuckling a bit when he looked for a clock around the room. “Dude I don’t know.”

Gerard was blankly staring at a screen with a very frozen Harrison Ford staring back at him. If that wasn’t a metaphor for how he felt right then and there, he didn’t know what else could be. “I think I need to go to sleep.”

“Dude me too,” Frank agreed and shut the tv off but not the VCR. He’d worry about the tape later. “Want my couch?”

“Like you’d give up your bed,” the older man scoffed.

“Give up? Naw. Share? Maybe.”

“I think you just want me in bed with you,” Gerard joked halfheartedly. Frank was always going to be the little brother of the group; even with Mikey fully integrated into their lives, Frank was still the baby. No one wanted to have sex with the baby, that was just weird beyond reason. But dear god, Gerard was lonely. He wouldn’t mind cuddling or spooning the smaller man just so he could feel the warmth of another human being for once. It had been awhile.

“Fuck you,” Frank cussed at him and walked away into his bedroom. He came back with a blanket over his arm and a pillow with no case in his other hand. “I can try to make it comfy. Don’t want you sleeping on the floor.”

“Oh,” he sighed, loudly, disappointed a little in the face he was getting the couch. Again, he didn’t want to _sleep_ with the baby of the group but he wanted to sleep with someone next to him.

“Here get up,” Frank ordered after he tossed the blanket onto the back of the couch. Gerard didn’t understand what he meant at first until he had a small hand pushing into his back to get up. First, Frank flipped the couch cushions onto the floor and then pulled the folded up thin mattress out onto the floor. Frank explained while he worked, “It’s not elevated but you’re still not on the floor.”

“Oh,” Gerard repeated, just more surprised this time. The couch was a bit small for two people but the fold out mattress was bigger than a twin and perfectly spacious for him to stretch out on if he needed to. “That’s... fuck, that’s awesome. Thanks.”

“Yeah... uh,” The young man staggered a bit in both his words and his feet. He walked back into his bedroom in a zigzagging motion; the alcohol must have caught up to him. “Imma... I’m gonna grab some more...”

All alone in the nauseating yellow living room left Gerard feeling uneasy. He already ditched his shoes when he first got there but now he was taking his jacket off and leaving it on an arm of the couch. Scanning around the room for the light switch left his empty-handed; it wouldn’t be the most comfortable way to sleep, but he’s also fallen asleep in much worse conditions.

Frank popped back with a few more pillows and another blanket (much bigger and definitely cozier) before he chucked them all into the bed in a disorganized fashion before finding the light switch easily and turning it off. “This ain’t a sleepover. We’re not gonna stay up all night or start talking about boys in our class that we think might like us.”

Thank god the lights were out to mask the confused look on Gerard’s face. “Wait, what? You’re sleeping out here?”

“Yeah. You got a problem with that, princess?” He didn’t face the older man as he pulled his phone and a charger out of his pockets (probably just to free up his hands enough to bring everything in one trip) and then plugged it into the wall. He brought it as close to the couch as e could get it, which still left his flip phone on the floor next to where his head would go, before starting to set up their sleeping arrangements.

“No, I just...” There was no real way to answer that, so he slipped into ‘bed’ and tried to make it homier along with Frank. He still felt the need to ask though. “Why?”

“I just thought about all the shit you’ve been through,” the young man replied without looking up. There was still a little light coming from the stovetop and from over top of the sink in the kitchen but it still didn’t help read Frank’s face any easier. “Knew of it were me, I’d want someone nearby.”

It was a sweet sentiment. It really was. “Thanks,” Gerard replied.

Frank snuck underneath his covers and made his head comfy on the pillows. “Good. Now... No cuddling. No spooning. No kissing. No nothing.”

Gerard laughed a bit as he started to fix his own pillow to let his hand lay underneath it. “Got it.”

“I mean it. If I feel your dick, I’m cutting it off and then kicking you out.”

He laughed again but kept himself back to back with the younger man. “Got it, captain.”

He was face first with the armpit of the couch, so thankfully there weren't any lights in his face to distract him, but he did have everything going on in his mind. There wasn’t an off switch for that. He silently prayed that Frank couldn’t hear him as he tried to work things out, if only well enough for him to go to sleep.

The biggest problem with having to sleep when restless is that the whole brain needs to stop talking long enough to actually sleep. That wasn’t happening. At first, he tried to think about positive things, mentally telling himself again and again to, “Think happy thoughts.” His birthday was coming up. He wanted to go out with his friends, maybe hit a bar and just relax for a minute. He missed his friends and his brother, they were good influences.

Then he started to think about Frank lying next to him. The young man was already asleep, lightly snoring into a pillow and facing the other way towards the wall. Given Gerard wasn’t going to roll over to see Frank, but he kind of just assumed that was what was going on. He really didn’t want to ruin what they had, but he started envisioning Frank inside of this world of kink they had talked about earlier.

The young man didn’t give off too many details when he was talking about experiences, but they still left a vague mental image in Gerard’s mind. Given a lot of what he knew was from his singular experiences with Ryan, but that didn’t help add on to what was already there. He started to picture Frank again, just in his underwear, little novelty underwear, and all tied up. The things he’d want to do to that submissive and willing body if he could get his hands on it.

Frank grumbled next to him and it snapped him out of the daze. Frank was real. Frank was next to him. Frank was his friend, not a potential fuck stick he could use to numb his problems for a minute.

Then, Frank pulled the covers off and slowly got off of the couch. He walked towards his bedroom but walked into another room. Had to be the bathroom. He didn’t say anything the whole time, so he must have thought the older man was asleep. So much for assuming.

Gerard rolled out of the couch pit and onto his other side to look out at the room. It was dark. Too dark to make out objects but not the vague figures that were scattered around Frank’s apartment. He couldn’t make things out but they all started to merge and morph in front of him. At least that what he was telling himself.

He started to concentrate on other things so he wasn’t looking for people in the shadows. His mind started to drift off to what all happened to him in the last few weeks, then it got stuck on that night in the bar, and when he got to see Patrick. That’s when the shadows on the wall started to merge with the dark shapes into what he looked like Patrick.

Gerard sat up just enough to stare at the figure. It was either the alcohol or the sadness, but it looked like Patrick. It looked like the teen with his back towards Gerard, wearing one of his signature hats and a bulky hoodie, almost so close that he was sitting on the edge of mattress. The older man started to pull himself just a little bit closer, then a little closer, and a tad closer still, trying to see if the figure was real. Gently he pulled his hand out from beneath the covers and brought it up to reach for the aspiration. There was no way Patrick suddenly showed up here; there was no way the teenager could have gotten in.

He realized no matter how hard he tried or how far he had reached, Patrick stayed equally as far away, as if stuck on a horizon line he could never fully reach. It was all in his head. “You’re not here,” Gerard muttered to himself as he retreated back to his section of the couch. “You’re not real.”

He started to recede back under the covers. If he could sleep, all of that would just go away. But if only he could sleep. There were still lights in the kitchen and now the noise of Frank washing his hands in the bathroom. With an arm thrown over his eyes to block what little light there was, he started to sob. Loudly. Loud enough to catch Franks attention as he was coming back to bed.

That being said, Frank misread the noises he heard coming out of the older man’s mouth. “Dude,” he grumbled. “What’s so funny?”

Gerard’s own voice quivered a bit. He knew Frank was up, sure, but he wasn’t expecting the teen to say anything to him. “I’m not laughing. Sorry.”

“Ah shit.” Suddenly Frank knew what was going on. Not entirely, just that his friend was crying himself to sleep. “What do you need me to do? You can’t go to bed like this man. Let me help.”

“I... uh...” His voice came up short. “I need to go.”

“Home?”

“Maybe...” Gerard grumbled as his mind bled through the filter between his brain and his mouth. “I just need to get out here. Like out... out of this fucking town. But you’re still drunk, you can’t take me anywhere.”

“Okay, okay,” Frank reassured his friend with a soothing pat on the back. He didn’t know what to do. No one really knew what to do when one of their friends were freaking out like that. But he had a vague idea of someone who did.

They were just a phone call away. Frank pulled his phone off of the charger just to flip his phone open and walked a few feet away. A couple of button presses and a dial tone later got him to talk to one of their mutual friends. “Hey, Ray? He’s still here. Yeah.”

Gerard had stopped sobbing enough to listen in on one side of the conversation. Once a creep, always a creep.

“He’s not doing too well man. I can’t drive.”

There was a long eerie silence before Frank said anything else.

“He’s asking to leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m honestly not the biggest Ferard fan and I almost wrote a little here. The truth is I’m writing a different fic where Frank is a trans guy really into kink and thought it’d be funny if the two crossed over for a minute but Frank in the Haunted Grounds universe is a cis guy so he couldn't exist as both trans and cis in the same world (you get what I mean?). And you guys also don’t know how hard I wanted to name the chapter after “The Sharpest Lives” since that’s where a lot of the inspiration for this chapter came from. 
> 
> Also, I actually know a woman who knew the members of MCR back during this timeline. She's told me a lot of stories, like the Pieball one I actually told here, so there's a lot of weird crap I know. That being said, I enjoy "story time" with her and I'm not revealing everything, I'm just saying that I have good resources that tell me some of this stuff is real.
> 
> Other news: the holidays are coming up and I enjoy writing on my phone to avoid talking to family members so you guys might be getting a few chapters instead of one or two. That being said, I’ve noticed a couple of errors in some of the old chapters (like Gerard’s name being Gerald because I know a Gerald personally and my phone will auto correct), so if anyone is interested in being a beta reader before I post these on to AO3, send me a message. We can probably work something out.


	7. Hand in mine, into your icy blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Demolition Lovers" by My Chemical Romance

He knew the second Mikey pulled up that he was screwed. There was no way his friends didn’t didn’t something’s to his brother, but he was gonna deny everything. Mikey asked when the car door opened, “How’d it go?”

“It’s was good,” Gerard said confidently. “Great to see the guys.” It’s not as if the situation from the night before had gotten easier when he went to Ray’s, but it was just a tad easier to go to bed on the sofa in his old room. He should have known when he woke up and went about the morning without Ray asking him a million questions that Mikey was going to be his therapist that afternoon.

Mikey gave a weak wave at Ray standing outside the apartment before he started to drive off. Gerard didn’t even have his seatbelt on all the way before he was out of the apartment complex’s parking lot. “I have to be in class in four hours. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do now because I can’t miss class.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Mikey snapped back. “Frank told me you were talking to his tv like it was a person even though it was off last night and then Ray tells me that you cried yourself to sleep. They weren’t even at the same place!”

When he was being moved from apartment to apartment the night before, Gerard realized that the Patrick he had talked to was just Frank’s television with a stack of VHS tapes sitting on top of it and a pile of candy wrappers. How that had turned into his ex-boyfriend in his depressed mind was beyond him.

“I’m just... do I need to take you back to Hoboken?” Mikey asked with a loud sigh.

“No,” he tried to answer. The last thing he needed was to be alone in that apartment by himself. If he was acting this irrationally around people, how would he be all alone?

“Do we need to get you some help?” Mikey asked again.

“No.” Gerard didn’t want to go to the doctor either. He didn’t want to be poked and prodded or medicated until he forgot about everything. He didn’t want to forget about his past, his mistakes, and his relationship; he just wanted to move on. It was just taking longer than usual.

“What do you need?” Support? A shoulder to cry on? Enough alcohol to drown out the voices in his head reminding him of all of his shortcomings? The list went on and on but there was little to no options that his brother could help with him.

So Gerard thought about it short term. “I need my brother to help me get through my birthday without me falling on my face. Please.”

Mikey did the same inner lip biting thing his brother did all the time as he tried to think over a response. “What can I do now?”

“I know it sounds stupid, but I want to take a nap. It was a very exhausting night,” the older brother groaned and leaned into the window.

“Who did you see?” Mikey tried to ask questions again.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know what it means,” the younger of the two asked when he turned the car into the parking lot. “What did you see last night? Who were you talking to?”

It was quiet. Dead quiet. The answer was right there.

“It was him wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t say -“

“What is it about Patrick Stump that has fucked you over so hard?! I have never seen you like this!”

That didn’t have a quick answer.

”It’s being here,” Gerard admitted. “Being near him. Being where I had made so many memories with him. I fucked up. Hardcore, man. Like super hardcore.”

The car was turned off so the sound of the engine running couldn't drown out the conversation. He didn't want to get out but he didn't want to stay there either. He was running out of options.

"Then why not go back to 'Boken?" Mikey offered. 

"Until work gets picked back up," the older brother said solemnly. "There's nothing for me there."

"I'm worried there's nothing for you here," the young man further explained to his brother. "Besides booze and heartbreak."

~~~~~

Gerard took a nap on the covers of his brother's bed. If he hid underneath the blanket, he might not ever get up. The sole window had the blinds lifted so the sun would be beating down on his face. It wasn't a form of self-harm to make himself that uncomfortable - at least that's what he had lied to himself - he just wanted to nap, not sleep the whole day away. 

When he woke up, Mikey was sitting on the floor next to the bed. He rolled over and saw his brother staring off into space and then commented, "Need something?"

"To know you're okay."

"I'll be okay, Mikey. I promise."

Mikey shook his head and looked over at his brother. "You gotta know why I can't take that. You're freaking me out."

Gerard sat up, crossed his legs on the bed, and collected himself. "I know. I'm scared of myself sometimes."

"What happens when you go home?" Mikey sighed. 

He started to say something back but he couldn't think of what to say, so he just made a few gawking noises. "...I don't know."

"Maybe you shouldn't go," Mikey offered and got up from his spot. He walked about the room, not pacing but looking for something. "Just stay here, so I can keep an eye on you."

"I can't stay in the dorms," Gerard tried to piece together. "One monitor sees me and I'm dead. A week or two I can handle but passed that, I can't stay there."

"Get a place off campus?" Mikey asked without looking up from the drawers of his desk. 

"I'd still be here," the older brother whined and leaned his back against the wall. "He's still here. That's the most f my problems."

"But you've had these problems even when he wasn't here... Or you were in New York." Mikey found a framed photo in a drawer and brought it back to the bed. When he sat next to his brother on the bed, he passed it over to show off what he pulled out. "Halloween when we were kids."

Mikey's Stay Puft Marshmallow Man costume their grandmother had made him that year. He was so excited; he was dying for the costume since July and their Grandmother was more than willing to make it happen. Gerard was in the back, with a crap ton of face paint that made him look simultaneously like a reject from the Misfits and a melting vampire. The older of the two took it from his brother's hands and looked it over while his fingertips grazed over the plastic frame. "Why do you have this?"

"I wanted something of her when I came to school," Mikey admitted.

Their grandmother.

It was still hard for them to talk about her being gone.

It was still so hard.

"So you brought a photo that doesn't even have her in it?" Gerard sassed back.

"Tch - not the point," Mikey snorted. "I wanted something that wouldn't be the end of the world if it broke. But it makes life a little easier."

"Why was it in the drawer?"

"You've got enough going on, I didn't want to make it worse," Mikey admitted. "Didn't know what would mess with your head, you know?"

"I'm not that messed up," Gerard explained. "Things I don't even want to think about have been rolling around in my brain like a hamster that won't get off the wheel. I don't know how to make it stop."

Mikey got up again to put the photo away. "What are you thinking about?" he asked. 

"I don't wanna -"

"What are you thinking about?" the younger brother repeated.

Gerard looked over, eyes weary and tired from all of the shit he had dealt with, especially everything that was self-inflicted. “I feel scattered,” he admitted. “All of my thoughts will hit me once; things I don’t want imagine like trying to fuck Frank to memories of Patrick that I just want to die.”

“You want to die?” Mikey asked as he shot across the room.

“No!" He caught how easily his words could be misinterpreted, so he further explained, "I want the memories to die. I want to be over this! I want to be over him!”

“And... you fucked Frank?” Mikey tried to piece together.

“No... no, I just...” Gerard understood how fucked up there too. “He opened up to me about something right before we played a drinking game and got shit faced. I couldn’t sleep and all I could think about was him... in ways I shouldn’t be.”

Mikey hadn't put the picture away yet so he brought it with him as he sat next to his brother, once again on the edge of his own bed. "I don't know why this break up is so hard for you, but we're going to get through this."

"Yeah," the older Way quietly agreed. 

"Things aren't going to go backwards," Mikey motioned toward the photo and brought it up between the two. "We are never going to be the same kind of happy as we are right here, but we can still be that happy doing something else. We gotta find you something else that will make you happy." 

Such a sweet gesture but it was falling short in Gerard's mind. He couldn't figure out how to be happy without someone there... but maybe that was the point?

"I need to be alone," Gerard admitted.

"Yeah, maybe," Mikey tried to piece together.

"No, no, I need to be alone," the dark-haired man repeated. "I need to get my life together before I do anything else."

"There you go!" The younger brother was elated. "We can find you some short-term goals or something. Look forward to the weekend so you're not worried about the end game, month or even years from now. Like what do you have planned when you get back to New York?"

That's when the assortment of mental notes he hadn't quite filed away into their proper memory files had sorted well enough for him to remember. "I have an art show I'm doing."  

It wasn't much but it was a start. Jimmy knew someone - or knew someone who knew someone - that had renovated old office space into a gallery. The gallery allowed different artists each month to show off their work and mingle with potential buyers. All for a small fee. He already paid the fee but he didn't have the artwork lined up and ready. It wouldn't take much, but that was a start. 

"See!" Mikey exclaimed. "There's something! Maybe you can even work on things here. We can even go out and get you some supplies, better supplies. Just to get you out of the dorms and apartments you seem to be growing in like mold."

"Lovely analogy," the older brother said as he rolled his eyes.

"Maybe we can find you a place to paint, like a park, to get you in the mood," his brother offered as the younger man walked around his room to put the photo away and start grabbing all of his school supplies. He did still have a class to go to, after all.

Gerard's mind tried to go through the photographic memory of what could be called a park in this town. The college took up most of the area in the town limits so there weren't a lot of options as far areas with a lot of greenery. It also wasn't much of a town for families, so there wasn't even a park in the area. There, however, was a student quad in the middle of the main buildings with some trees and shrubs and flowers and a nice looking gazebo he could hide away in and block out the rest of the world.

“Can you drop me off somewhere? I’ll bring some my art stuff with me but I think I need to get some fresh air,” Gerard asked his brother. 

~~~~~

He needed some alone time and he wasn't going to get it if he stayed in Mikey's dorm all day. There was a gazebo in the student quad on the campus that caught his eye. He didn't have a vehicle since Mikey dropped him off, on purpose, but he wanted to get out of the dorms for a while so he brought his art bag with him and hung out there while his brother went to class. The place was littered with students walking around, hanging out, or working on assignments, but the gazebo was empty. A perfect place to stay away from people, get some fresh air in his lungs, and maybe just draw a few things to keep his mind off of the outside world. Even though he wasn't at work, he still found himself doodling little Breakfast Monkeys all over the page. He was actually in the middle of coloring the little bugger in a spacesuit when he heard his name, "Gerard?"

He looked up to see Patrick Stump, adorned with a denim jacket that didn't match his Mariner's shirt or his khakis, clearly not in class. That was the only reason he came out of the dorms for some personal time; if Patrick was in class then the two of them couldn't run into each other.

"Yeah?" he was afraid to ask back.

"Hey." The boy walked up, a couple of steps away from the floor of the gazebo. The boy sounded potentially concerned when he asked, "What are you up to?"

"Mikey's in class, I needed air, and this seemed like a good idea," Gerard spat out while he was already packing his stuff up; he thought it'd be a good idea but he just as easily could have sat in a Denny's and gotten the same fresh air without running into his ex.

"You don't have to leave," Patrick tried to reason. "I kind of wanted to talk to you."

"About...?" What on earth could the boy want to talk to him about? Gerard felt like they both said what they needed to when they first talked during this break.

"I wanted to air out the bad stuff out between us," the boy said as he made his way over until was standing up in front of Gerard. "But alone. I don't want anybody to interrupt."

"Okay," the older man agreed but he still continued put up all of his stuff. When it was all back in his bag, he patted the table next to him. Gerard had already taken a seat on the table with his feet on the seat, so that didn't leave a lot of options.

Patrick dropped his backpack onto the ground and sat on the seat. "So..."

"Did you just want to yell at me and get it out of your system?" Gerard cut to the chase. "I don't blame you. I deserve it."

"I wanted to for so long, but I'm way past that," the teen sighed, eyes fixated on the ground like he wouldn't even look at the older man.

"I was terrible to you and I could say I'm sorry a million times and it will never be enough," the older man said honestly.

"I know," Patrick accepted it. "But I can't keep being mad at you."

"How can you not to be mad?" Gerard tried to rationalize. If he had been treated the way he had treated Patrick, he wouldn't have wanted anything to do with the other person, let alone came back into his life the way he had done this past week.

"Oh, I am still pissed," the boy told him honestly, while still avoiding direct contact. "But I've been able to move on, and that's what I want to talk to you about."

"You want to brag to me about how you're in a relationship?" Gerard asked, seriously confused by the statement.

"No, just," the teenager groaned. "That we need to get over what we had and move on, as in the both of us."

"I mean... Patrick," he was at a lost for words. "It wasn't for that long but we were important to each other for a while. I can get why you'd be mad."

"I will never not be mad, but I still want you to move on. I want you to be happy," the boy said with his hands nervously running back and forth between each other. "And I don't want to feel bad when you come here."

"Why should you feel bad?" Gerard asked as he didn't understand what the teenager was alluding to.

"I have a good thing going right now." Patrick took his hat off for a minute and ran a hand through his hair before putting it back on. Same auburn hair, just a little longer now, Gerard noted. "And we have a lot of mutual friends now and I don't want people picking sides or being rude to either one us because of something the other person said."

"I wouldn't blame any of them for hating me though," Gerard thought aloud. It was a miracle that he had been in town for as long as he had without Pete or Joe kicking his ass.

The boy groaned loudly, "I haven't said anything negative about you to your brother. Or to Ray the few times I've seen him. Or Frank. Or even Justin. I've seen them all on several occasions and I told them all that our breakup was mutual."

"Why would you do that?" Patrick was so... unselfish. It was like the opposite of how Pete would write those songs where he could immortalize the person's terribleness. Patrick wouldn't even bad mouth the older man in private.

"I can't ruin your image." The boy went back to running his hands against one another. "I mean, I told Joe and Pete and Andy after the initial breakup. I was mad. I didn't know what to do with myself. And they were my shoulder to cry on."

"I'm glad you still had them," Gerard commented. It was true. He was happy that the teenager had someone there to help him.

"But I've been great while you were gone when it comes to your image, and I'd appreciate it if you could do the same." Patrick went right back to business. Gerard could tell the boy was lying and he wasn't going to say that to Patrick. So the older man pretended that he didn't need to know about the drinking. Or the mindless sex with Justin. Or how the teen was failing all of his classes. Or skipping them. Like he was doing right then as the two of them were talking.

"I told my friends in New York about you, but mostly about how great you were and how terrible of a person I was to leave you behind," the older man sighed. "Well mostly."

"What do you mean mostly?" Patrick questioned.

"You know how Justin would get all handsy when he was drunk?" Patrick was glaring at him but he kept talking. It was like word vomit. "I tend to over talk when I'm drunk. Plus I had this interview about us with this woman who does stories for a relationship blog thing or whatever. I don't think she posted it."

"You don't think she posted it?!" Patrick shouted and stood up in anger. "What all did you tell her? What if it gets it out? What if it comes here?"

"I didn't tell her anything about that," Gerard couldn't believe what he saying even as he was saying it. He was over talking again and this time he wasn't even drunk. The boy was pacing around on the wooden floor of the gazebo instead of talking to him. "I'd never tell anyone. Honestly. You don't have to believe me and I'd understand if you never did, but really, I didn't say anything."

Gerard heard the sound of thunder rolling in and looked up from the boy to the sky just in time to see that it was raining.

"Oh shit."

"Are you kidding me?" Patrick groaned when he saw it too.

Why did it have to be raining? Of all the times to be raining and of all of the people to be stuck with... Gerard's luck was running out. "I don't have a car to get us out of here."

"My phone's dead." Patrick was zoned out over his phone. "I can't call Justin."

"Do you know his number?" Gerard didn't want Justin around but maybe, just maybe, it could get them out of this situation a lot faster.

"No."

"Anyone know you're here?"

"Not really. Maybe Joe."

"I can call him to come and get you."

"Please don't." Patrick had his head in his hands. This was far from a perfect situation and Gerard could imagine that the teenager didn't want any of the guys to know where he was or who he was talking to. Forget Pete, Joe might actually kill Gerard if he had the chance.

"I know this isn't ideal, but please let me try to get you home at least." Gerard came up behind him. "I can call Ray. You know he's reliable. He won't say anything."

"Say anything?!" The boy turned around and snapped, "We didn't do anything that can be talked about!"

"I know, that's what I'm saying!" Gerard snapped back. "We can call Ray because he wouldn't think anything anyways!"

"Then just..." Patrick paused before he calmly said anything. "Go ahead and call him."

"Okay." Gerard got up to get his bag and then sat back down on the bench and pulled his phone out. It took a minute for Ray to pick up. "Hey? I need a favor."

"What's up?" the other man asked.

"I'm in the quad at the college. It's raining and I need a ride," he muttered out. He kept looking over at Patrick standing there glaring at the rain as if it was all the rains fault.

"You're not by yourself are you?" Ray must have pieced two and two together and figured out why his old friend was talking so weirdly.

"No..." he side-eyed Patrick when he said it.

"I can take him home too," Ray sighed heavily. "Just... Don't do something stupid until I get there."

"Thanks, man," Gerard added before the call ended. He sat in silence for a long moment before he decided that it was a good time for his last cigarette. He was going to make this little fucker last.

"You still want to talk?" Patrick broke the silence.

"Only if you want to," he responded without taking the cigarette out of his mouth.

"Why are you back here?" Patrick sounded pathetic. Not in that way where he wanted someone to take pity on him but where he sounded like he felt bad for himself. Just listening to it was heartbreaking.

Gerard let out a breath of smoke and nerves. "I had time off of work and I wanted to spend my birthday with Mikey. I didn't think we'd be running into each other this much."

"But you knew you'd run into me," the boy said, not really asking but simply acknowledging it.

"I've made a lot of stupid decisions in my life, and how I left here is up there as the worst." In his mind, he'd always be a creep. The creep that dumped someone and then begged for forgiveness from that same someone. How Patrick could even stand to be in the same airspace as him was beyond his comprehension.

Patrick walked over to the pillar next to the bench. "When's your birthday?"

"What?" He was honestly taken off guard by the question because he was so deep in his own thoughts. He wasn't expecting it at all. Really thought the two of them would be sitting in silence until Ray showed up.

"You said you were here for your birthday," Patrick repeated. "When's your birthday?"

"This Friday."

"Okay, what are you guys doing?"

"Why are you asking?" He looked back in time to see the boy shrug.

"You're right," Patrick admitted. "You were an important part of my life for what felt like a long time but was, in reality, was just a short chapter of my life. I can't keep acting like you don't exist. The least we can do is try to mend bridges so we can at least be friends again."

Gerard was trying to hide his smile but he was clearly outed when the boy sat next to him. "I'd really like that."

"So what are you guys doing?" Patrick asked again.

"I don't know yet," the older man sighed and took another drag of his smoke. "I was thinking just going out for drinks and hanging out with the old group plus Mikey. I'm not sure yet."

"That sounds like fun," Patrick smiled and the older man caught it for a split second.

"You're more than welcome to join us," Gerard offered with a smile. "You even can bring Justin."

"Baby steps, Gerard," the boy reminded him. "I think we need to take this one step at a time."

"Yeah," he nodded in agreement but deep down he didn't want to. He wanted Patrick back. He wanted to stop feeling like crap all of the time. He wanted things to go back to normal.

"I didn't mean to snap at you last time we talked." Gerard looked over at his ex as the boy spoke. "I like that you still care about me. I didn't mean for it to come out so harshly, but I feel like since I'm in a relationship now, we can't talk to each other like that."

"If Mikey or Frank were in a relationship, I'd worry too. Hell, Frank's in a relationship and we're all worried he's gonna be a dick, and Mikey's dating that one guy and I'm worried that something is gonna happen." The older man took another long drag on his cigarette before he let out a breathy, "I'm going to worry about you. If you're okay, if he's treating you well, if you're binding for too long - all these thoughts were going through my head while I was in New York. I'm never going to stop worrying about you, Patrick."

He kept saying the word 'worry' but he knew what he was trying to say. Like he realized back during the alcohol-induced living room interview back home, he still loved Patrick. Nothing was changing that and being back here next to the boy was only making it clearer.

"And now I hear you're drinking, and I'm worried even more." That time he meant worry.

"There's a lot of other things going on, Gerard," Patrick mumbled a bit. "Drinking is just what I do on my downtime to help me get through the hard time. It's not that bad. I don't know what people are telling you, but I'm okay, I promise."

The older man tried to believe the lie for a minute, just so he wasn't meddling, but he had heard Mikey talk about how Patrick had stopped going to classes. "I'm not asking as an ex, but just as someone who wants to look out for you..." he started but was cut off.

"You're gonna ask about Justin?"

"Yeah," Gerard sighed and nodded while he took the last bit of life out of his cigarette. "He treating you alright?"

"He's a prince, I swear." Patrick smiled just thinking about it. "He's very accommodating with the binding issues, and even if he has stupid questions he's very careful about asking them. He's been nothing but a gentleman."

"A gentleman?" Gerard chuckled when his mind wandered, in particular to the song he remembered Patrick and Pete singing. "Tell me there are perks."

"I'm dating the lead singer of a band," the boy shook his head with a grin. "What's not to love?"

"I can imagine," the older man said as he killed the cigarette into the ground with his heel.

"You got anybody in New York?" Patrick asked, looking over his shoulder as he was hunched over his knees.

"Not right now," he admitted. God knows he didn't want to talk about Ryan, especially given how much he talked about Patrick to Ryan. "We kinda split off recently. I don't know if it's a good idea for me to be with anyone, honestly. It's giving some art inspiration, so... silver lining."

"Painting again?"

"Yeah, I'm working on it," Gerard sighed. "I might be able to do a show with some other artists next month, but I don't know if I'll have enough stuff."

"I got faith in you," Patrick told him and nudged the other man with his knees. "I remember you showing me all of your paintings. See if you can take some of those."

"Yeah," he said in agreement. Gerard's mind went straight to the painting of the couple he had first done as a sharpie tattoo on his ex. He had made it in the first week he had moved, and then his mental state had gone downhill from there. Not a lot of pieces he had made were happy, but they were all perfectly reflecting his life at the moment.

But back into the gazebo, the two of them enjoyed the sound of the falling rain. It was honestly so calming. They were both snuggled close for warmth but they were so lost in their own individual thoughts. When Gerard looked over at Patrick to see if the boy was still lost in his own mind, it looked like the teenager had done the same and their eyes had finally met.

They were locked in place.

Both of them had thoughts swarming their minds, filled with all of the possibilities of what they could do right then.

Patrick moved in first, lips lightly grazing the older man's as he shuddered to the touch.

Gerard's hands jumped up to the boy's arms as he kissed him back.

It only lasted a minute before it hit Patrick what he was doing and he pulled himself off of the bench and started pacing around again.

"I'm sorry," Gerard shuddered.

"No," Patrick admitted with a shake of his head. "I started it. It's my fault."

"We're never getting over this if I keep coming back here," the older man realized.

"I know," the boy sighed.

They both grabbed their respectful bags and sat in silence a good distance away from each other while waiting for their ride. Everything was just awkward. Ray's car rolled up to the quad and Gerard caught sight of it in time for him and the boy to just run to it as fast as possible, his head covered in his denim jacket. The two jumped into the car, Gerard insisting that Patrick should sit in the front seat, and they took off.

"That rain came from out of nowhere," Ray commented once the car was getting out of the school grounds.

"Yeah," Patrick agreed.

Patrick and Ray dominated the conversation while Gerard sat in the back seat reevaluating his life choices that had to lead him here. He heard the two of them start talking about Patrick's boyfriend, and then the band, and then stuff that the band was up to. His heart sank when he realized that he wasn't going to get Patrick back.

But Gerard didn't talk for the rest of the ride. He just sat there mindlessly watching cars and buildings go by with the rain beating down on Ray's car and drowning out all of his thoughts.

Everything just continued to be awkward.


	8. Photo-proofed kisses I remembered so well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "G.I.N.A.S.F.S." by Fall Out Boy

The whirlwind of thoughts and feelings had him trapped for what felt like days. Patrick couldn’t process what had happened to him yesterday; he had to keep checking both his calendar and his phone to make sure that it had happened yesterday and not months ago. The whole experience felt simultaneous like he was trying to piece together a far-off memory that had faded from the passing years and as if he was recalling a scene from a movie he had seen a million times. Regardless, he was faced with an out of body experience that he couldn’t accept had actually happened. It was the third time in the last hour he had his hand on his mouth that he caught himself still trying to feel Gerard’s lips on his. The tips of his fingers grazing his bottom lips or the bottom palm of his hand would lightly touch the chapped skin of his lips, still mesmerized over how less than twenty-four hours ago, Gerard had kissed those same lips. It was the third time that morning he had to remind himself that he was over that man and would quickly distract himself with something else.

This time it was breakfast. Breakfast at noon, but still breakfast.

Patrick was mindlessly shuffling around the kitchen when Joe came back. He couldn’t remember why the other teen left but he was also too exhausted to remember a lot of anything, so Patrick was going to fake it through the morning. Or what was left of his morning.

“Hey man,” Joe greeted him with a half smile. “You have a good night? Noticed you stayed here and not with Justin.”

“Yeah,” Patrick absentmindedly agreed while cleaning up his cereal bowl. “I wanted to be alone for awhile.”

“Tough times for the sweethearts?” His friend joked and ditched a jacket and a backpack onto the couch before plopping down on one of the ends.

“Not exactly, but my mind is everywhere...” the teen started to explain. If he could open up to anyone about his problems, it’d be Joe. Patrick sat down on the couch Joe was already on before trying to open up to his friend, “I wanna talk about something but I don't want to your opinion until I'm done talking.”

"Okay..." Joe trailed off, wondering what the ever loving fuck his friend could possibly be so worried about talking to him for.

"I saw Gerard not too long ago."

That's what.

"At the show with Midtown right?" Joe had already heard this story, from both drunk Patrick who was pissed as hell to see his ex there when he thought he had gotten over him already as well from "sobering up" hungover Patrick that next morning who wouldn't stop commenting on how sad Gerard looked and how big of an asshole Patrick was to him the night before.

"No... well yeah, but I saw him again yesterday, like by ourselves," the younger teen started to explain. All Joe heard was that it had happened again.

"Why the fuck is he back here?" Joe started to spit out. He had always been overprotective over Patrick. Given it was all because of an incident that the two of them would never discuss, but Joe was always going to look over the younger teenager. Any way to make up for what he had done, he was going to try.

"No this is where I'm going to talk," Patrick muttered out, his voice shaking just as hard as his hands. "About facts. And my opinions. And how I feel before you even get to say anything. Because I need to get these out of my head and out in the open so I can start to digest it all before I can even start to take someone else judging me."

"Okay," Joe answered and left it at that.

Patrick needed this moment to get his head straight, but he also needed his best friend to give him some advice afterwards. Hopefully, that's what Joe would do. "He was at the quad. I don't know what he was doing. But I just needed to get some air -"

"You were skipping again," his friend interrupted. They all knew how bad Patrick's drinking was getting. Whenever he went to class, he'd get part way through before 'needing some air' and then he'd skip out for the rest of the day.

"Whatever. That's not the problem here," Patrick snapped back. "But I saw him and thought since he was alone and I was alone, that maybe I could apologize for how I acted at the show. He didn't deserve that."

"You're right..." Joe started. He wanted to finish it with, 'He deserved broken legs and busted face,' but that was the opposite of what he agreed to do, so he left it at that.

"He just looked so sad," the smaller teen admitted. "There's got to be other stuff going on in his life. It's heartbreaking."

"Who knows, but how is that your problem?" Joe had to ask. Sure, the teen's ex-boyfriend was none of his business but why should it be Patrick’s problem.

“It isn’t but... I really screwed up,” Patrick replied.

“How he feels after the relationship he ended is not your problem,” the taller of the two told him.

“No, yesterday. I screwed up yesterday. We kissed...”

“You what?!”

“I didn’t...” Patrick started to say. He wanted it. He wanted that kiss. He wanted to kiss that man. If he didn’t want them he shouldn’t have kissed Gerard. Hormones be damned; if he didn’t want them he shouldn’t have done it. “I didn’t think I wanted to, but when I was that close to him, it just... happened.”

“Do you want him?” Joe asked, splitting into Patrick’s brain with just four words.

“I uh...”

“Do you still want him, Patrick? It’s a simple question,” Joe repeated, now inching closer towards his friend on the couch.

Patrick nodded. His teeth pulling his lips into his mouth kept him from saying something he might regret but nodding his head wasn’t hiding his feelings. “Yes. I really do.”

“You got a great thing going on Patrick Stump,” his friend reminded him. “Maybe you forgot about your boyfriend somewhere along the way, but dammit, Gerard is the last damn thing you need.”

“I know...” he groaned with his head in hand. Patrick hadn’t even said all he wanted to say to get it out of his system and Joe was already laying into him.

“Maybe you should go spend time with Justin,” Joe snapped while he got up from his seat. He proceeded to lecture Patrick as he walked around their dorm to get himself something to eat. “I don’t always like you being over there for long periods of time but sometimes you need to remind yourself where your priorities are.”

“Yeah, sometimes...” Patrick mindlessly agreed.

“Great,” Joe beamed when he came back into their living room. “Go see your boyfriend. Get your priorities straight. Stay the fuck away from Gerard Way.”

The smaller teen’s heart sank. That was not what he wanted to hear. That wasn’t even the advice he had asked for if he had even asked for any at that point.

His best friend slapped his shoulder on the way out of the room towards his own bedroom. “Great talk, ‘Trick.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled as Joe walked away. “Great talk...”

~~~~~

He later repeated the whole conversation to Andy, who patiently listened with all ears. Right when Patrick was explaining how he felt putting himself in the middle of it all, tearing up at the thought of his predicament, he noticed his friend hadn’t said a thing. “You’re mad,” he guessed. “You’re waiting for me to stop talking so you can tell me what you think.”

“No,” Andy answered with a perplexed look on his face. “You said you needed to talk and I’m giving you that platform. I’m not saying anything unless you ask me, specifically.”

“Wait... like... seriously?”

“Yes,” the older man repeated himself. “That’s what you said you needed... Joe was an asshole wasn’t he?”

Patrick hadn’t even mentioned Joe but it must have been obvious what happened earlier that day. “I just...” he tossed his hands up in the air before he slapped them back into his lap. He was so frustrated. “I don’t know where to go anymore. Do I stay with Justin because he hasn’t hurt me? Do I go back to Gerard knowing what he’s done and that he could do it again? Hell, he’s in New York! He could just be trying to make things alright for a week before he runs off again. I don’t know what to do, Andy. Parts of me are saying one thing while the other parts are saying another.”

“What’s your heart saying?” Andy offered.

“My heart is saying to go with Gerard,” Patrick confessed. “I have never been treated so well, so lovingly, so amazingly, by another person on this planet ever.”

“And what does your brain say?” His friend brought up the other side of the coin.

“Stay with Justin,” the teenager said while nodding as if this was the right decision in the case. “I know what I’m getting. He’s really just in for a fun night and a good time and that’s what I need. At least, that’s... what I think I need.”

“And what about your gut?” Andy added.

Patrick let out a shaky breath. That was a hard one to answer. One that didn’t come easy and wasn’t easy to explain. “You ever see the movie, The Bridges of Madison County?”

“No...” Must have been a weird way to start a conversation.

“It’s a chick flick my mom took my sister and me to see when she tried to force a girls day out on us,” he confessed. “But, like, Meryl Streep plays this woman who has an affair with this guy who comes in to take photos of the bridges in her county. It’s an amazing experience for her but it all ends when her husband comes back from vacation - which, who the fuck goes on vacation with the only parent? What the hell? - but there’s this scene where she’s in the car with her husband and the guy she had the affair with is in the car in front of both of them. They’re all stuck at a light. And then affair guy stays there when the light turns green and even though she had the opportunity to run off into the other car but she stayed in the car she was in.”

“Is that you think you should do?” Andy asked, bringing the conversation back, full circle. “Stay in the car?”

“I can always wonder what life would be like with someone like that,” Patrick admitted. “But I can only know what I’m getting into with what I have here.”

“Is that what you’re gonna do?” Andy asked again. “Stay in the car?”

“I think so...” Patrick said, somewhat confidently. “I really think so. There was a huge part of me that would have done anything to spend the rest of my life with that man but he drove off and left me there in Madison County. So I’m gonna stay here, in my car, where I know what works.”

“If that’s what your gut says,” his friend added. “Then go with it.”

“Thanks for listening to me,” Patrick said with a sigh of relief.

“Can I say something?” Andy asked and waited patiently for Patrick to look at him with a serious face.

“Yeah,” the teen nodded. Andy let him talk. Andy let him talk his ear off. Andy let him figure this all out all on his own and hadn’t offered any advice or criticism or opinions that he hadn’t asked for. “Yeah sure.”

“Your phone has been going off for awhile,” Andy said while pointing to Patrick’s phone that had been charging against the wall since the teen had gotten into the dorm.

“Ah, shit!”

~~~~~

There was a series of texts between the two of them that made Patrick think they were gonna spend the night together. But more than anything, he saw the message from Justin that said they were going to, “spice things up tonight.” In the teenager’s brain, that meant sexually, and when it meant their sex life, it meant that he got to be on top for once. Or at least he had hoped.

He had packed an away bag like he always did when he knew he was going need a little assembling for the night, but this time he packed a little bit extra. He didn’t know what all Justin had experience with or what Justin would even be up for doing, so he packed options. Then there was just a front gate ring, a walk to the right duplex and a knock on the door was between him and Justin and it was a list that was checked off quickly. He wouldn’t admit that Joe was right, but he was happy to see his boyfriend right then and there. “Hey baby!” Justin greeted him with a loud welcome and a kiss on the lips before wrapping his over layered arms around the short teen’s torso. “Look at you, looking manlier than usual.”

Occasionally, Justin made comments like this and Patrick never knew how to take it. He never heard comments like that coming from Justin until he had came out, but he never knew if it was the older man trying to make him feel better about being trans or if it was just to constantly remind himself that he wasn’t dating a natural born man. “Thanks, I think.”

“So I got drinks started!” Justin motioned towards the island counters that he had converted into a bar when he let go out of the small teenager. Most of the apartment space had been renovated into much of a frat house; the only real food in the kitchen was ramen and cereal after all. The bottle of whiskey was still by the shot glasses when Patrick walked up, with his bag still in hand. Justin noticed and promptly took the bag of toys from his boyfriend’s hand while simultaneously offering a drink to the teenager. “It’s the new spicy one I was telling you about. I really wanted you to be here when I tried it.”

“Okay,” Patrick nodded as he agreed to try it. He dropped his bag on the floor near the bar and leaned against it while his boyfriend made drinks for the two of them. It was a just shot, but the fact it was made just for him made him feel good. He had someone in his life who would things for unselfishly. At least he assumed so. “Thanks, babe.”

Justin raised his glass up for a toast and waited for the teen to do the same. “To spicing things up.”

Patrick grinned like a fool at the thought as he raised his own shot glass and let it clink against his boyfriend’s glass. “To spicing things up,” he repeated.

He took the shot as quickly as possible by throwing his head back and he almost immediately regretted it. It was like a punch in the face from a cinnamon candy that had been brought to its fullest potential by some trickster god for the sake making dumb teenage boys regret every decision that had brought them to that point in their lives. Justin noticed the pained expression on Patrick’s face, “Too much?”

“Yep!”

The older man scurried around the kitchen for something to cool Patrick down with. Sprite was a better choice than water and since the teenager downed the whole thing the second the pull tab had been pulled, it was probably the best choice. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Patrick sighed, suddenly feeling his taste buds come out of hiding.

“Hope that’s not a sign,” Justin giggled. “Don’t want the rest of the night to go badly.”

Not if Patrick had anything to do with it.

The teen took his time from gentle kisses and tiny nips at Justin’s neck until he could pull the older man into the bedroom. Then he took even longer to get between Justin’s thighs. Patrick was still fully dressed but he had at least gotten his boyfriend’s shirt off before sitting on the floor on his knees. Laying his arms across Justin’s knees first, Patrick rested his head upon his forearms to look up with his doe eyes the best innocent face he could manage, “You really wanna spice it up?”

“Oooo,” Justin purred. “What have you got planned?”

Patrick side eyed his bag against the wall for a second before he thought up of something better than just jumping head first into the deep end. “Close your eyes.” Justin raised an eyebrow but went about closing his eyes regardless. He did peek after a moment of hearing Patrick scuttle across the carpeted floor which the teen promptly caught. “No peeking!”

“Okay-okay!” At that point, he took off his glasses, rested them close to his other hand and then covered his eyes with his prominent hand. Being blind as a bat already, he really didn’t need to cover his eyes, but he also didn’t know what Patrick had hidden in that bag of tricks the teen brought over for the night.

Within seconds, Patrick had three different dildos lined up on the bed. He knew which ones he wanted to pull out to play with the second the idea to fuck Justin popped into his head but the teen still wanted to give his boyfriend the option unlike the last time he topped, but he at least knew that these three would work with his harness. “Okay, open them," Patrick ordered with a grin on his face.

Justin removed his hand and then put his glasses back on. When he got a glimpse of what was set before he let out a long-winded and cheery "ooo" before picking up the one closest to him. It was bright blue with deep ridges that looked like waves and it brought a smile to the older man's face. "I dig how this going so far."

"Great!" Patrick was elated. He secretly thought Justin wouldn't be into it, but after seeing the look on his boyfriend's face, he was so excited to get this started. "So pick which one you want me to use."

Justin was still picking away at the ridges on the blue one when he answered, “I want to see how this one feels. Love to see your face.”

“What?” Patrick was slightly confused so he had to clarify.

“I said I wanna see how you look when this goes in you.”

“Oh uh... I was gonna use these on you,” the teen sighed. This night was going downhill fast. Should have known better. “I have my harness ready and everything.”

“What? Oh god no! Nothing’s coming near my back end. Like ever!”

“Oh...” Patrick sighed, genuinely bummed out.

“We can still do stuff,” Justin offered, trying to find a good halfway point, but that ship had already sailed.

“I know but... it makes me feel manly in a way I can’t get when I’m the one bottoming,” the boy explained.

“Well... we can still do things, like that one thing,” the older man offered a little more.

‘That one thing’ was the same ‘one thing’ Patrick had discussed doing with Gerard. Maybe now with some different company, it wouldn’t be so intimidating. “Yeah,” he silently agreed. “Like that one thing.”

He let Justin take his shirt off while Patrick carefully undressed his boyfriend back. Justin repositioned himself on the bed, with his only boxers loosely setting on his hips, while bringing the shorter teen up on his lap. But Patrick was still... nervous. This was a good thing, he kept telling himself. He finally got the chance to do this and now he was doing this... so why did it feel so weird?

“Okay so we never, like, talked about how we do this thing,” Justin started rambling. “How do you need to sit for it to look like yours?”

“Like on your lap,” Patrick started to say. His mouth started to go dry and the beating of his heart was so loud that he could hear it over his mouth. “Reverse cowgirl. My back against your front.”

“Okay,” the older man agreed and pulled his boxers off, freeing his half hard cock into the room. Suddenly everything was becoming a little too real for the teenager but Justin still hadn’t noticed. “You want to take your top off too? Or you just wanna be flat chested for this?”

“I uh... I didn’t think about that part too much,” the teen admitted. With a lot of help from Justin, Patrick was able to get into position to start the act. When he finally got a chance to look down, he audibly gasped. It looked right. Somewhat right. That cock was in the right position to be his, a little larger than he expected his own to be, but still aching to be touched by him alone.

It wasn’t completely perfect, though. Justin was a tad bit darker than Patrick was; actually, he was a lot darker but that was because of Patrick being a fair skinned cherub looking white kid as opposed to Justin being anything darker than his perfect tanned tone he made his own. The curls surrounding it were darker and coarser than the ones on Patrick’s body. Hell, the head on it had a small tinge of purple that couldn’t have been on the teen anywhere unless he was bruised. It was still pretty to look at though. Even if he couldn’t get into the mindset where he was an average male playing with his average genitals, Patrick could still get behind the idea where he got to play with his hot ass boyfriend.

He tested it out with a loose grip and a few strokes. It didn’t feel like he was stroking himself but it did feel... good. Somewhat good. Butterflies in his chest good. So he sped up a bit, hoping it would make those feelings a little more towards his own groin. He felt hands grip at his waist and it ruined the sensation instantly. Right then, it was obvious what he was doing and that it wasn’t actually him. “Don’t...” he tried to mutter out but it came out barely above a whisper. “Don’t touch me. Just let me do this.”

“Oh!” Justin exclaimed. “Okay.”

With a deep breath to free him of his thoughts, Patrick tried to go back to his task at... in hand. He thought of everything he had done to his dates before and tried to apply it here; a loose grip with quick movements, using his thumb to run over the head, playing with the balls, using both hands.

But nothing.

Nothing was working. Nothing past the butterflies of nervousness that had set up in his gut and wouldn’t come out. Justin must have sensed it because suddenly that set of hands were back on his hips again and it made Patrick jump.

“We can stop,” the older man offered. “If you’re not getting anything out of this, we can stop.”

The teen gasped and silently nodded before adding, “Please.” The couple detangled themselves from their positions to more comfortable spots on the bed.

“And we don’t have to do anything tonight,” Justin told the teen in a sweet shushed tone. “I can see you’re tense. We can just stop altogether.”

“Thanks,” Patrick whispered in reply.

“But don’t take it personally if you hear me moaning in the bathroom later,” the older man teased and nudged Patrick with his arm.

Patrick looked over at Justin’s smiling face and smiled back. Maybe he had put this all in his head that it would be amazing and he’d feel something that he truly physically couldn’t feel. But right then, he felt safe with this man who wasn’t taking it to heart, let alone, could joke about how it didn’t have a “happy ending.”

“Thanks,” the teen replied with an even bigger smile this time.

“You will, however,” Justin announced as he got up from the bed in a very fake-sounding British accent and went about the room to grab a hold of their clothes. “Allow me to dress myself and then my man friend so that the two of us may retire for the night. We may not sleep or have relations, but we will stay up late talking endlessly about things we find trivial.”

Patrick laughed to the point where he covered his face in second-hand embarrassment. He didn’t remove it until he was being offered his underwear and his shirt. “God, you’re amazing.”

“I try,” the older man said with an overdramatic shrug. “Really hard sometimes.”

Once they were both properly dressed for the evening, the two of them went to cuddling underneath the covers. Justin was always the big spoon; no real reason, but they managed to end that way, every time. Patrick wasn’t complaining, he liked it that way. His back against Justin’s chest, the older man’s fingers running slowly down his side, his head buried in the pillow that smelled just like Justin’s body wash. But it felt like something was missing and Patrick couldn’t place it if it was him or his company.

“It’s me isn’t it?” Justin asked as if he could read Patrick’s mind.

“No baby,” the teenager lied. How could it be the man who treated him so well? How could that be the problem? “It’s not you.”

Everything from the last twenty-four hours played in his brain like a movie on the highest fast-forward setting. It wasn't Justin. It wasn't Justin's fault. It definitely wasn't Justin's fault that he was Justin and that was Patrick's biggest problem with the issue at hand.

"It's not you," the teen repeated. "It's just me..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've made excuses time and time again whenever I've taken more than two weeks between chapters, but I also feel like every time I post a chapter, I need restate what all is going through my life.  
> I have some serious Seasonally Affected Depression Disorder that has been making life hard for me to do the basics in my daily life, let alone work on my hobbies; because let's be real, this is a hobby. I also have had some serious digestive issues going on that have made me take time off of work, which also screws me over since I'm living alone at the moment. I've been trying to get a different job, one that deals more with what I got a degree in, but I'm still having to work ten hour days at my current job to pay bills.  
> I love and appreciate every comment, every kudo, and every bookmark on this series because if I didn't have amazing readers like you guys, I wouldn't be doing this still. I can write 500 words on a good day, 2000 on a great day, and 25 on an average day, but a lot of times I'm not writing in sequential order; the final chapter of this installment has been done for months, the eighth chapter has been done for awhile, two chapters of the next installment have been done for awhile now as well, and I'm completely done writing the fourth installment (period). Sometimes when I feel like writing, I want to write something that pertains to my life at that moment (like a holiday) or how I want to be at that time (a much happier feeling), so there are days where I don't write angst but its part of the story and I got to get through it, it just won't be right that minute.  
> So again, thanks for being patient, hate that you guys have to always be patient, but I wouldn't be doing this if you guys weren't so amazing.


	9. Cross my heart and hope to die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "G.I.N.A.S.F.S." by Fall Out Boy

Hearing someone yell, “Ah, fuck!” was not the best way to wake up in the morning. Not even when it was that someone’s younger brother. Gerard didn’t even question it at first, he simply rolled out bed and walked sleepily into the kitchen where he assumed Mikey was.

He guessed correctly when he saw Gabe and Mikey in the kitchen; Mikey sucking two of his fingers into his mouth with a pained look on his face while Gabe was unplugging the toaster. Gerard could only guess, “Did you put a fork in there again?”

Mikey shot him a dirty look, fingers still in his mouth. “Fuck off.”

The older brother looked over at the boyfriend, “You don’t know how many times he’s done this. Mom got rid of all of the metal forks because of how sick and tired she got of him shocking himself as he was trying to get toast out.”

“Last time I do something nice for you,” Mikey grumbled and walked away.

Gerard watched his brother walk off angry through the unbrushed strands of his bedhead before turning over to Gabe. Puzzled he had to ask, “What’s wrong with him?”

The scrawny guy pointed out the mess of dishes, burnt on food residue, dirtied pans, and plates that showed an array of breakfast foods that were sitting on the counter. “He wanted to cook you breakfast. Knew it was your favorite meal of the day.”

“Why would he...?” He still wasn’t piecing together why his brother and Gabe would be doing such a nice thing. Not that he was complaining, he just couldn’t understand the reasoning.

“Yeah,” Mikey agreed as he came back into the kitchen, just now with a wet washcloth on his fingers. “Happy birthday, asshole.”

“It’s not -“ Gerard tried to argue but couldn’t.

It was Friday.

The ninth.

Of April.

It was his birthday.

“Oh shit.”

“Did you forget?” Gabe laughed. “Dude! How did you forget your own birthday?!”

Mikey knew how. Between life getting in the way, the alcohol clouding his mind, and everything that he had left behind coming back to kill him, Mikey knew exactly how his brother could be so forgetful. He crossed the small kitchen to give his brother a hug. “It’s okay man.”

“Thanks,” Gerard sighed into his brother’s shoulder. Took a moment before he broke the hug himself, but when he did, he immediately looked for a place to sit so he could process everything.

“So, uh... happy birthday?” Gabe interrupted the moment.

“Yeah, thanks man,” Gerard replied while still trying to understand where the time went. How was it already his birthday? He felt like he just got back here.

There was a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon that was passed in front of him. Two more somewhat identical plates were placed on different spots on the table before Mikey sat down. “We can cancel tonight. No pressure.”

Tonight was his old friends and the bar. Didn’t seem like something he should cancel. If he couldn’t handle that then he needed to go back to Hoboken. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Just let me wake up.”

Mikey turned just a tad to snap his fingers at his boyfriend who hadn’t taken a seat yet. “Coffee me, babe.” Gabe rolled his eyes with a smile and did it anyways as Mikey kept trying to make breakfast go as planned. “Mom texted me earlier. She wants you to call her tonight so she can wish you a happy birthday properly.”

“Got it,” Gerard confirmed as he started to eat. It looked amazing. Even if the toast was burnt. “Call mom later on tonight.”

“Don’t forget or she’ll kill you,” Mikey said nonchalantly. Their family had a slight mob persona going on with it. And their mother was definitely the mob boss.

“I know,” the older brother replied without looking up from his food. He fucking loved breakfast and this plate had all of the best parts he liked. “Thanks for the food.”

“No problem, just return the sentiment in September, alright?” Mikey joked.

“Absolutely,” Gerard told him with a smile.

~~~~~

The plan was to meet at a bar. A plain bar. One where there wouldn’t be any musicians playing. Gerard requested one by name in hopes that no one would suspect that he really didn’t want to run into Justin or Patrick, despite how he clearly invited Patrick to their night out.

It dawned on him on the ride there that he never actually told his ex-boyfriend where they would be meeting that night. He kept flipping his phone open, going into his contacts and starting a text message to Patrick’s number that he couldn’t delete from his phone, no matter how hard he tried. He’d get part way through a sentence before he’d delete the message and flip his phone down in defeat. After a few attempts, he had finally given up and put it in his back pocket.

Mikey noticed the whole ordeal from his shotgun seat. “Texting mom?”

“No, I uh...” Gerard tried to lie. “Was thinking about inviting someone but I can’t bring myself to do it.”

“Why would you invite him?” Mikey snapped back, understanding who his brother was talking about instantly.

“To get over the hump, try to be normal, try to have a normal relationship with the guy I dated and dumped like an asshole,” he tried to explain.

“Stop doing that,” his brother ordered. “I will steal your phone. It will be in my underwear for the entire night if you text him again.”

“I didn’t-!” Gerard whined. “I didn’t even text him... the back right? You wouldn’t put it in the front?”

“Oh hell no, full frontal,” Mikey said confidently. “I’d open it up so the buttons would be on my balls.”

“God you two are gross,” Gabe commented from the sidelines in the driver’s seat.

It was a plain bar. Kind of plain. The closest to plain someone could find in North Jersey. There were two pool tables with games going on at once, music over shitty speakers instead of a band, a projector screen displaying some old anime movie that even Gerard couldn’t identify, and an outdoor smoking area on a wooden patio out by the bathrooms. Completely typical Northern New Jersey bar.

There were tables scattered around in the empty space between the couch in front of the screen and the bar was directly in front of the front door. Gerard his brother and said brother’s boyfriend met up with the rest of the party who had taken over the couch and a nearby table. The group did, however, hoot and holler when they noticed who had finally come in.

“Hey!” Frank shouted with everyone else. “How’s it feel to be an old man?”

“I’m twenty-seven,” Gerard smarted back. “That’s not even old.”

“It’s the descent into old man life,” Ray added and passed over a beer that hadn’t been drunk but was already paid for.

“The hell are you talking about?!” Gerard laughed. “You’re just as old as me!”

“In July,” the curly haired man replied and went back to his drink, and his conversation with Frank. He was bringing his friend into the conversation with him. “Tell Gerard about The Loop.”

“Holy shit man,” the tiny man got super excited. “They started letting bands perform again. A shit ton of us are fighting to get spots but even bands from out of Jersey are trying to weasel their way in.”

“And where is this?” Gerard had to ask. Sure he’d want to see Frank perform, but he wasn’t going too far, let alone into South Jersey territory.

“Passaic,” Frank answered, drink in hand. “Pencey’s a Jersey local so I think we’ll be golden.”

“Just remember us when you get famous,” Ray added and leaned against their tiny table. “Imagine telling people years from now that we know Frank Iero.”

“Imagine telling them that you wrestled him for beer in our living room,” Gerard added.

“Or that he dyed your hair,” the other man added his own bit.

“Or how he would steal our phones for the fun of it?”

“Or that time when -“

“Fuck you both!” Frank snapped and the older two men laughed.

Not that his friends weren’t fun enough, but Gerard let himself watch the other people in the bar, in particular the growing crowd of people dancing in the open space between the couch and the bathrooms. And in particular, his younger brother and the dance companion Mikey had. Kind of hard to miss Mikey with that bright ass blue shirt going on against Gabe’s all black attire. Also kind of hard to Mikey grinding up against his boyfriend like he was a stripper trying to make rent. Like a train wreck, it was hard to look away. It was also hard not to hear what they were saying as the music died down a bit between songs.

“Baby, can you get me a drink?” Mikey asked loudly over the music.

“They’re gonna see your designated driver wristband,” Gabe used for his defense. “You can’t drink.”

“It’s just a one,” the younger Way teased into Gabe’s ear. “And I’ll hide my wrists in your jean pockets -“ he slowly put both of his hands into Gabe’s back pockets, squeezed for good measure, and then giggled, “ - see?”

“Oh my god, they’re so gross,” Gerard expressed even as he couldn’t look away. Both of his friends looked over right as Mikey and his boyfriend locked lips and then looked back at their friend.

“It’s just because it’s your brother,” Frank explained. “Like if you saw one of us being sexual or whatever you wouldn’t think it was gross. It’d just be us.”

Gerard nodded with eyes as big as the moon, trying not to mention or think back to when he was at Frank’s apartment awhile back. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So what are you doing when you get back?” Ray interrupted. Saved by the proverbial bell.

“I’ve got an art thing, like a show, coming up,” the older Way admitted. “I’ve got a few pieces done already but since I don’t have them all, I wanted to give myself time to have them all done before the show but also before I have to go back to work.”

“I saw your show too, man,” Frank added. “That shit’s funny. That little crap head can be an asshole though.”

Absentmindedly, Gerard made the “woo-hoo,” noise that the title character did before taking a drink from his beer bottle instead of just a typical, “thank you.”

“Wait,” the smaller, heavily tattooed man was once again super excited. “You’re still doing the voice?! They didn’t get someone else?”

“Nope, the producers were pretty adamant that I stay as the voice of the Breakfast Monkey,” Gerard sighed. “I’m secretly worried that’s gonna be my future instead of working on the story or art for the show. I’ll turn into a voice actor.”

“Could meet Mark Hamill,” Ray offered.

“Oh god! Yeah!” Gerard was exasperated and held out his hand for his imaginary introduction to one of his favorite entertainers in the world. “Picture it: ‘Hi, I’m a huge fan of your work in Star Wars and what you brought to the Joker character in Batman: The Animated Series was amazing and unprecedented. I’m the guy who voices that little Scandinavian monkey who basically has a breakfast food fight every episode!’”

He rolled his eyes at the preposterous idea and laughed along with his two friends but he looked up from the table to see who was walking in. And then he lingered too long and he caught his friends’ attention.

“Ah shit,” Frank groaned. “I thought they didn’t let minors in here.”

“It’s before ten,” Ray checked his watch just to make sure. “They’ll give Patrick some kind of wristband like they do with the designated drivers but he can still be here. Unfortunately.”

“It’s okay,” Gerard tried to deescalate the situation. “I wanted to invite him anyway. I really think we can get over the awkward part of this if we just see each other more.”

“But on your birthday?” Frank questioned.

“Just let it happen okay,” Gerard whispered between his teeth. “Maybe I don’t even have to talk to him. We could just both have our own fun nights on the same Friday in the same bar.”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Frank told him. “We can go somewhere else.”

“Like Shots?” Ray offered.

“I’d love some,” Gerard blurred out.

“No Shots,” the curly haired man repeated. “The place down the street that only serves shots and it’s got the space of a walk-in closet for us to hang out in.”

“I don’t know how that’s gonna help us,” Frank argued. “We’d still have to walk passed Motion City Fucktards and their table boy to get out of here.”

“It’s not the whole band,” Ray remarked. “It’s just Justin and Patrick.”

“Oh god,” Gerard groaned and melted into the table with his hands over his head.

“How about you go on a smoke break while we figure shit out?” Frank offered. “Justin’s asthmatic, he won't follow you out there. And then I’ll come get you when you when we’ve planned our escape.”

“Fun,” he groaned again. “Like D&D all over again.”

That was a joke that didn’t to be explained, mostly because no one got it in the first place, but with it, Gerard got up from the table, walked on the edge of the dancing crowd, and towards the patio. His feet didn’t even hit the wood before he had his lighter out and a cigarette in his mouth.

He also didn’t even have his cigarette lit before his phone went off. Even though he was rapidly trying to place everything in his pockets, he eventually got a hold of his phone and saw the caller’s name light up on the front screen before he flipped it open. “Hey, mama!”

“Hey my favorite birthday boy,” his mother cheered on the other end of the call. “When were you going to call me?”

“Honestly, I forgot until it was pretty late. I didn’t think you’d be up,” he smiled at that thought. God, he missed his mom; he should really visit her more often. “Glad you called me.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” she told him. “What are you up to?”

“Mikey and his...” Gerard quickly caught himself. Neither of her sons had come out of the closet, well to her at least, and he wasn’t going to do that tonight. “Mikey and his roommate took me to a bar and I’m hanging out with some of my old friends.”

“Right now?! Oh honey, go!” She pleaded with him. “I just wanted to say happy birthday, baby bear!”

He cringed a bit at the pet name. He loved his mom but he was grown, twenty-seven to be precise. “Well thank you. I will give you a proper phone call tomorrow when I can hear you without music blaring in the background or pool balls hitting off each other.”

“Love you, have fun, my favorite birthday boy,” she repeated it again.

“I bet you say that to everybody,” Gerard joked.

“Only in April and September.”

He was grinning like an idiot when the two of them hung up. He definitely needed to stop by his old home soon, but for now, he was still in the bar. Hanging with friends. Finishing a cigarette. Riding on the temporary high from talking to his mom, Gerard decided to challenge the plan to get him out secretly and made his way off of the patio.

He didn’t get out of the hall until he accidentally bumped into someone. Someone short, with a hat, an obscure band shirt, and big doe eyes staring back at him from the other side of oversized glasses.

“Ah shit,” Gerard grumbled. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Patrick repeated, still stunned that he was face to face with Gerard again. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s Friday...” he thought the teenager would have remembered from their conversation back at the quad. “I’m hanging out with the guys, and Mikey, and his boyfriend or whatever.”

“Okay, makes sense,” Patrick sighed. “Um... I was just going to the bathroom so I could... readjust, you know.”

May have taken Gerard a second but he realized that meant Patrick’s binder and why the teen needed specifically a bathroom. Which he was currently standing by. “Oh then let me just let you go.”

“You don’t have to...” the teen attempted to say. “We can talk for a minute. Baby steps, right?”

“Yeah,” Gerard agreed. “Baby steps.”

“So, how much longer until you have to go back?” Patrick tried to form some kind of a sentence. Too much pressure being put on the spot.

“I’m thinking Sunday or Monday,” the older man answered. “Give me some time to do a few things before I go back to work.”

“Yeah,” the teen agreed to it as if he was doing the same thing.

“You okay?” Gerard asked, genuinely concerned. Usually, Patrick talked non stop, without a filter, as the words came to mind. This was different.

“I’m uh...” the teen started and then licked his dry lips. “I’m stuck at a crossroads, conveniently when the light’s red, wondering if I should stay in the truck or get in the car.”

It was such a vague metaphor for whatever it was Patrick was going through but Gerard couldn’t figure it out. Hell, he thought they might have been song lyrics the teen just had stuck in his head. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

Patrick shrugged and stared off at the wall. “No one does.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard found himself apologizing again. “I know I suck and I’m trying to be a better person, especially to you, but it’s just...”

His phone buzzed and he took it from his back pocket to read the message. “Can’t find him. We think it’s safe to leave.” Frank couldn’t find Patrick in the bar because the teenager was right there in front of him. But it could wait. Gerard wasn’t leaving yet.

“Sorry about that; it’s the guys....” Gerard admitted with his phone still in his hand. “You know I’ll come back here a few times because of Mikey and stuff. If you ever need someone to talk to...”

“You’d do that?” Patrick questioned.

“Yeah I mean, of course,” the older man laughed it off. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m always going to care about you.”

“Always?” Patrick centered in on the one part that Gerard regretted to say.

“Yeah I mean... why not? We were important to each other right?” He drew from their conversation back at the quad. “I’m never going to not care. I can still... I dunno.”

“Can I ask you something?” The teen looked at him, his eyes almost glowing with the yellow lights from bar hitting his glasses just right, and it could make Gerard melt.

“Yeah,” the older man answered with a nod.

“Do you still want me?”

Of course, he did. How could he not? Gerard would have given the world to have Patrick back. And now Patrick was with someone else, and Gerard wasn’t living near the college anymore. Everything was complicated.

But Frank had given Gerard an opportunity to get out. And he was taking it, “I got a text message earlier and I really need to go back -“

He tried to make his escape but Patrick slammed his hand against the wall, blocking the slightly taller man from being able to leave but most of all, making Gerard take him seriously. "Do you still want me?"

It took all the older man had not to bend into those words. But with only his heart and phone in hand, he had to be honest. "Yes. Absolutely."

"Why did you leave if you still wanted me...?" The teenager's voice sounded as puzzled as the face he was making.

"I... I didn't want to fail you," Gerard confessed. "I didn't want you to come live with me after college, have us get married, and then start a life together and then have it all taken away because I could lose my job! That's not fair to you."

"You..." Patrick's arm was starting to fall from its place. "You thought of a future with me. You saw us getting married... and living together...?"

He still did. Somewhere, deep in there, passed all of the fears of never getting a chance to even see Patrick again, Gerard was still thinking about what life would be like for them in the future. A future that only could exist if he hadn’t broken them up. All the older man could do was nod while he bit the inside of his mouth to keep his tongue from exposing his true thoughts.

"But you didn't think that I would have stood by you if you lost your job?” Patrick snapped back. “You didn't think I would have helped you?! You didn't think of how I would have been there by your side the whole fucking time?!"

"I didn't,” Gerard muttered out. “I was too caught up in my own thoughts, I never thought to ask you."

There were tears swelling up in Patrick's eyes as he started to pour his heart out. "I would have rather been homeless with you than have been rich and alone."

Gerard’s heart sank at Patrick's words. It seemed really terrible when it was all said out in the open. Gerard would have taken a bullet for Patrick and he was a fool to think the teenager wouldn't have done the same. God he was so selfish. He had been on the bad end of too many unrequited loves that he never thought he had found someone who actually cared about him just as much as he did.

Patrick's arm finally fell off the wall and he crashed into Gerard's body. When the teen regained his footing, Gerard could tell Patrick desperately wanted to hit the man in the face but instead chose to slam a closed fist again and again into the older man's chest. Gerard let it happen. He didn't know how to deal with someone who was having a meltdown like this, especially when he was the one who caused it.

"Fuck you!" Patrick cursed. "How dare you! I don't get to leave this place with my hands clean like you did!" Suddenly, the teen just collapsed out of frustration and the older man quickly grabbed him to hold him up. "You're such an asshole..."

"I know...” It felt like all of his apologies had either been ignored or were empty. He couldn’t say he was sorry about this enough. He had said it enough already.

The boy’s body had curled up against his chest. Gerard wanted to comfort him in this moment of sadness, so he wrapped his arms around Patrick into a tight embrace. It only made the teen sob louder, but at least he didn’t pull away. Almost on instinct, Gerard started rocking them back and forth by shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Just like they used to.

Suddenly, Patrick pushed himself away from the arms that were holding him close and pushed his feet up to lock his lips with the older man. It caught Gerard off guard, but when Patrick started to deepen it with use of tongue, he started to do the same.

This was everything he had wanted. He wanted the two of them to be on good terms. He wanted to start the relationship back up. He wanted Patrick back. He was getting Patrick back.

Patrick ran one of his hands down from the center of Gerard’s chest down to the older man’s waist. But the older man’s chest was sensitive, his nipples ached when they were scraped by Patrick’s fingernails more than anything, and it made him jump. And shudder. And then blurt out, “Ah shit, that hurts.”

Then Patrick pulled away. A good few feet away with his back on the other wall. Hands covering his mouth like a cage to keep the monsters inside from doing any more damage.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard found himself apologizing again. He didn’t initiate anything but he found himself apologizing for everything. Again.

“I can’t... I can’t be here,” Patrick admitted. That didn’t take anything away. Especially when he was the one who did it.

“Please don’t,” the older man quietly pleaded. “We can talk about this.”

"I need to leave," Patrick said while wiping the tears from of his face with his sleeve. "Before I say something I can't take back."

And then the teenager left, racing back to his spot in the bar. It was obvious from as far away as Justin was sitting from where Patrick turned into view that his boyfriend was upset. Justin just couldn’t place how he could be so upset so quickly, but he was standing up to take charge of the situation.

“‘Trick?!” Justin called out, trying to shout over the general noise of the bar and music and pool tables. “Baby what happened?”

“Get me out of here,” Patrick begged when he was back in his boyfriend’s arms. This is where Patrick wanted to be. No, needed to be. He needed to be with someone who wanted him. Someone who wasn’t going to break him in the process. “Please, Justin. Please take me home.”

Justin’s eyes darted back and forth between the shuddering teenager and the back of the building towards the smoking area that Patrick had just run from. He could make out from across the bar what could only be Gerard Way and it made his blood boil. “Do I need to take care of him?”

“No, just... take me home,” Patrick whined into the tan neck he was hiding behind.

Gerard saw Patrick leave the bar with Justin pulling on the teen’s arm to lead them both out of the place and to what he could only assume would Justin’s apartment. Then he looked over at his friends and locked eyes with his brother who looked furious. “Oh shit.”

“What happened?!” Mikey shouted over the music as he detangled himself from Gabe and rushed over to his brother. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Gerard lied. Only kind of. “We talked and then he kissed me and I was just...”

“He left here crying,” Mikey added. “What else did you do?”

“It started out with a kiss, I don’t know how it ended like this...” the older Way confessed. He was still slightly dazed over the whole situation. They were just talking. How did it jump so quickly?

“Was it only a kiss?” his brother asked for clarification because it hadn't been said so many times already.

“It was only a kiss...” Gerard repeated. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Did you...?” Mikey asked the question but Gerard knew what he meant.

“He initiated it,” the older man said breathlessly. “But I didn’t push him off, it’s my fault too.”

“Well,” Frank introduced himself into their conversation. “We don’t really have to leave now if you don’t want. We can stay. Your birthday, your call man.”

It wasn’t until then that he realized the whole party had huddled up around him. He was put on the spot, for the most part, but he rode with it regardless. Gerard looked at Ray, dead in the eyes and asked, “So where’s Shots?”

~~~~~

That morning was not nice to him in the slightest. Killer hangover, empty stomach, and back pains from sleeping on the couch at a terrible angle. “Shit...” Gerard groaned when he woke up. “Where am I?”

“My couch,” Mikey answered him from the kitchen, thankfully not too far away since there weren’t any walls between the two.

“Why am I not in bed?” The older of the two asked as he sat up, misjudged his balance, and then ultimately fell back on the couch again.

“Gabe and I barely got you up the dorm,” his brother told him. “We got you to the couch and gave up so we could have our backs back.”

“Ah,” Gerard made a vague noise to show he understood. “Well, I’m not gonna be here forever, you know?”

“I know,” Mikey replied, quietly. “You thinking about leaving today? Run off on me overnight like a father in a Temptations song?”

“I think I’m going to leave on Sunday,” Gerard grumbled while rubbing the sleep off of his face.

“Sounds like a plan,” his younger brother agreed. “I can drive you to the station so you don’t have to taxi it this time.”

“That’d be awesome.” He started to drift back to sleep for a moment with his eyes closed but ultimately fought against it and picked himself up to a sitting position on the couch.

“I got something for you,” Mikey said as he sat down next to his older brother. Gerard was awake and sober enough at that point to know it was a birthday present. “I was going to give you to you last night when we got back from the bar but, you know...”

The gift was wrapped well, in a bright shiny silver paper with Gerard’s name scribbled at the top, but it was so blatantly shaped that he knew what it was. He unwrapped it, carefully, to face a comic book in a protective sleeve that wasn’t so unlike the ones he had in his collection already. Except this on was, “Is this signed?”

“Yep,” Mikey answered proudly with a grin on his face. “Had to go all the way to Mid Town Comics to find it. Plus its issue nineteen.”

“When Grant Morrison took over writing the series,” Gerard said as he stared at Morrison’s signature, just as bright and silvery as the wrapping paper that was covering it earlier. “Holy shit, Mikes. This is amazing.”

“I thought about getting it framed so you could have it next to that Alan Moore signature you’ve got,” his younger brother added.

Gerard had a Watchmen poster that had been signed that he got when he was still in high school. His mother insisting on framing it but he hadn’t hung it up since he was still living at home. It was in his closet when he lived with Ray and it was still in his closet now that he lived alone. “I’ll get a frame for it when I’m living in a place that will let me nail the wall.”

“When you’re writing your own comic books,” Mikey told him.

“Yeah,” Gerard laughed a little on his own. He traced Morrison’s signature with his finger and then traced the Doom Patrol logo right above it. “One day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a couple of things I want to point out.  
> Mama is more of a southern thing, but I couldn't pass up having Gerard call his mom that because of the song.  
> Patrick initiated both kisses, in the quad and at the bar.  
> I'm a sucker for using song lyrics in my stories, even if isn't from the same bands.


	10. And I feel like there's nothing left to do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Demolition Lovers" by My Chemical Romance

He kinda wished he had a pet. Someone to come home to who would be super excited to see him. Especially after such a long trip, but instead he came home to an empty apartment. Gerard couldn’t dwell on it for long though; he had a show to get ready for in a few weeks. It was something to look forward to. Something to get ready for. Something to do. It made coming home to Hoboken a little easier. Hell, waking up that morning to Mikey and Gabe fucking again was the perfect excuse to run out of the dorms and back to his apartment. At least he left a note to his brother before he called for a taxi.

He took his time to unpack. Gerard put some music on to set the mood. The playlist consisting of the Smashing Pumpkins, Frank Black (both in and out of the Pixies), and David Bowie wasn’t exactly a happy soundtrack to come back to, but it definitely set the mood. His clothes were thrown in his hamper, quite literally, while his art supplies were carefully set down in their proper spots. When he came to his present from Mikey, it was treated with the highest regard for its safety, before he put it on his shelf with the rest of the comics. It was still squished into place since he didn’t have any more room on the shelves as is.

He went to put his bag back in his closet, he wasn’t going to need it again for awhile and came face to face with a part of his ex-boyfriend that he forgot was there. That mother fucking David Bowie shirt. Gerard dropped his bag and closed his closet doors in a snap before he was able to register an emotional response.

Lunch.

He was going to make lunch. It was going to keep his mind off of things and away from his fucking closet. He’d been gone for a week and a half so there wasn’t a lot of options. He kinda wanted to do cereal to be cheap and easy but his milk had spoiled. Everything else in the cabinet was alcohol and even in his fucked up mind he knew it was too early to be drinking and he wasn’t sad enough to be day drinking.

He made a sandwich with the last bit of turkey meat he had left. It hadn’t gone bad yet, thankfully, but the bread was stale as hell. He told himself that he needed to make a list and go out shopping at some point, but that would be for another day. He had a week and a half before he had to go back to work.

Painting.

That was only thing on his mind when he was done eating. Between what he already had done and what he was pulling from his archive, he really just needed three more pieces, or one really good and massive sized one. So he was going to try one really good and massive sized one first. The canvases were hiding in his closet, so he had to pretend that the shirt wasn’t there still when he pulled one out. Of course, he slammed the door closed again to show that shirt whose boss. He had work to do. He couldn’t sit around and be sad about a relationship that obviously wasn’t going to happen.

He flipped through his sketchbook a few times to find one he’d done before that just needed to be redone on a larger scale. Two and a half sketchbooks later and he found on he liked. He pulled the right paints and the right tools and the right plastic for the floor before really starting. He blocked out the shapes first like he always did, but it was quickly interrupted when he heard a melodic chirp as he was changing paint colors.

His phone.

A number with a name he hadn’t saved on his phone but he knew who it was. He wasn’t sure how to spell it or if he should have even saved it in the first place, so for now, it was just a number. “How’s the art going? Give me a shoutout when the show happens, OK???”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Maybe he’d just send out cards or a massive email to everyone who’d be interested in going when the date got closer. Hell, he didn’t even know the date of the show, he just knew when he had to show off what he had to get in.

Gerard redirected all of his attention to the canvas and went back to work filling in the blocks of color. If he didn’t have the sketch in front of him, he’d have no idea how this was supposed to turn out. A few hours went by before he realized he needed to move his other limbs. He realized he forgot a color first and foremost but any reason to stretch was a good one. But that color was in his closet in a pack of paint he bought that he hadn’t opened up yet.

He forgot all about the shirt until he opened up his closet again. This time, he wasn’t distracted by another emotion to drive him away from it; those memories were demanding that he had to give that fucking shirt all of his full attention. Gerard stared at it, blankly, trying to figure out if he should divulge into the temptation or if she should slam the door in anger. After a quick glance at his hands to see if they were covered in any paint, he carefully picked the old garment from the top of the mini bookshelf where he had been hiding it for months since it became his.

The Technicolor image just popped off of the black fabric. His hands traced the design on the shirt, the paint was starting to crack and it felt rough underneath his fingers. It still looked the same as it did when it was left in his last apartment.

He brought it up to his face and smelled the lingering scent that could be only described at Patrick. It was a mixture of the teenager's minty shampoo and the body spray he'd use because he'd sweat so much.

His heart ached.

It shouldn't be like this.

Gerard's mind was a shit ton of emotions but that kept replaying over and over like the needle was stuck on his record player. He shouldn't still feel like this. He let Patrick go. He should be able to walk away just fine.

Right?

The shirt was dropped to the floor and Gerard let it lie there for a moment. He didn't want anything on it to possibly ruin the smell. Especially tears. The result was shuddering breaths and shaking hands as he covered his face in defeat. God he still wanted that boy. How could he not? This past week or so of seeing the teenager with someone else but still openly wanting him was breaking him apart.

He didn't know who to call. Who could help him right now? Who could possibly be able to make some of this heart ache sting a little less?

He couldn't call his mother. It was not only sad but she had no idea he had been in a relationship in this first place. He couldn't call his brother. He had just left there. He couldn't go backward. He also couldn't expect Mikey to fix all of his problems. He definitely couldn’t call Frank or Ray; they were so deeply involved in their own lives that they couldn’t do much even if they could help.

But he needed to talk to someone. Someone who wasn’t his brother or one of his friends. No, he realized he needed a friend. He needed a friend who didn’t know Patrick. He needed someone who could o my see one side, to let him have a chance to voice his heart break, his pain and his side of the story. So somehow, someway, he found himself calling that number in his phone. He didn't put the name in for more than one reason, but he still knew who it was. He had memorized the digits every time he would go through his contacts but it was easier this time because they’d messaged him earlier. And less than an hour later, there was a knock at his door. Gerard didn't even think it could be anyone else so he sped off to answer it and opened the door to his apartment.

Lindsey was standing in his doorway like an angel sent down to fix all of his problems. There weren't even words between the two of them before he melted into her arms like a baby. "I tried!" he bawled. "I can't do it! I can't handle this..."

"Okay, okay," she tried to coax him into calming down. "Here, let's get you to the couch."

He was gently pushed over to his couch but kept rapidly expressing all of his problems. “I went back and everything exploded in my face! I can’t deal with this! I don’t know what to do!”

“You saw him?” She asked directly.

“Yeah.” He was starting to calm down. Talking to someone who was stoic in their conversation made it easier to stop being a blubbering mess. He was still sniffling and trying to catch his breath.

“Did you talk?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

And then Gerard told her the entirety of what had happened to him over that week. From walking in on his brother having sex, to the long speech with Ray, to the song written about him, to wanting to fuck Frank, to kissing Patrick Stump not once but twice and then being told that they wouldn’t work out both times. He talked about his emotions and his feelings and how it was all effecting him now.

“So you guys kissed?” Lindsey asked for clarification.

“Yeah,” he repeated. “Just kissed. He started it both times, but... I didn’t stop him.”

“Not to come raining down on this pity party, but next time you call me, make sure you have more than just ‘we kissed’ for a juicy story,” she told him. He looked up at her, shocked to hear the words until she playfully nudged him with her knees. She was joking and it made him feel a little more at ease.

“It’s not a lot physically,” Gerard explained. “I get that. But, why would he do that if he was so happy being with another guy?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” she started and readjusted her spot on the couch so she could sit with cross crossed legs with an arm over the back of the couch. “He’s not. He’s afraid to ruin what he has with this other guy. But he wouldn’t be doing that if he didn’t want you.”

“Then how do I...” he couldn’t find the words but thankfully Lindsey knew what he was talking about.

“He’ll figure it out in his own time that he wants you and only you but he has to figure it out on his own.” She leaned back against the couch for a moment to recollect her thoughts before telling him. “You may not even be there when he figures it out but that’s okay. He’ll know what he wants then and I’ll find someone else to fulfill that image he has. So congrats, you’re someone’s unobtainable fantasy boyfriend.”

“But I am obtainable,” Gerard started to argue.

“Gerard you’re the one that got away,” she expressed it in simpler terms. “He will be looking for you in every guy he ever meets wondering what could have happened. You showed up before he was done being mad but before he realized that he could still have you. He wouldn’t have been kissing you if there wasn’t some small part of him that didn’t want you. And he did it twice, so he really wants you.”

It suddenly all made sense and it clicked in place in his head but he still felt like a piece of himself was missing. But now instead of being mad, he felt numb. “So what do I do?”

She pondered it a second before getting up and moving the coffee table towards the tv. It didn’t leave a lot of room on the floor but she sat on it anyways. “C’mon,” Lindsey beckoned him to sit next to her. He started to get up but by the time he had his feet on the floor, she had some more instructions. “Move the couch more into the kitchen so we have more room.”

Gerard blankly stared at the couch as if it could tell what she said and it would move on its own but after deciding it wasn’t enchanted like it was from Beauty and the Beast, he pushed it away one arm at a time until it was pressed up against the card table he called a kitchen table. She patted the floor again for him to come have a seat but when he sat on the floor in front of her, she decided to lay down on her back so Gerard just followed suit.

“Talk to me, Way,” Lindsey told him. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

“You want me to keep talking?”

“Cheaper than therapy.”

Gerard rolled his eyes but let the words fall out of his mouth regardless. “What can we talk about without going in circles around all of my problems?”

“What else have you got going on?” She redirected it all away from his past and towards his future. He did have a butt ton of things he was supposed to be getting ready for.

“I have that gallery showing thing,” he grumbled.

“Okay,” Lindsey acknowledged him. “What about work?”

“I go back next week.”

“What needs to be done in the apartment?”

“I uh... laundry. Groceries.”

“Have any time set aside to just relax?”

“No...” he answered truthfully. “I just did that. This whole past week.”

“No you didn’t,” she argued back. “You had family time and networking time. You apparently spent it all trying to get your love life up to speed but that’s beside the point.”

They were laying on the floor staring at the ceiling like the answers to all of their problems were there. Well, the answers to Gerard’s problems because the only real problem Lindsey seemed to have was him. At least in his mind.

“What was his name again?” she asked, voice steady and focused.

“Are you interviewing me again?” Gerard responded with a coarse ruined voice from all of his crying and screaming.

“No. Of course not.”

He paused, thinking about whether or not he needed to open up again. “Patrick. His name is Patrick.”

“What was so special about Patrick that you can’t get over it?”

“There was a connection,” Gerard admitted. “Something deep. The moment I saw him I knew he was going to be amazing and I wanted to be a part of that. Even just to watch him light up the sky from the sidelines; I wanted to be a part of that.”

“Do you think you’re never going find someone who make that same kind of connection?” she asked, quietly. “Or is it more of how you think you’re never going to find someone that special again?”

“Yes,” he answered confidently and it made both of them giggle for a minute. It took them a good moment to gain their composure back.

“You’re gay right?” She asked again.

“No, I just kind of go with the flow,” Gerard explained.

“Okay, I just wanted to be sure before I said something,” she said, turning her head to stare back at him. “Unless he somehow pops up asking to date you again, you need to take some time to yourself. I’ve never seen you with him nor have I ever met Patrick, but you don’t need to date someone for the sake of having somebody to share a bed with. So no more little twinks you meet at the bar, or any of these random girls who want to make you their husband. Make some Gerard time.”

He pondered it over a moment. It was good advice whether he took it or not. “The time set aside to help me relax?”

“It makes it easier to go on with the day to day if you’re able to have that one moment,” Lindsey said as she rolled over onto her belly. “Jimmy's got shit to make it easier if you ever need anything.”

“It has a price tag I can’t afford right now,” he admitted. He wasn't working at the moment so there wasn't a steady cash flow, and even then, Jimmy had a lot of good stuff for a lot of money he didn't want to pay on a good day. “There’s a chance the show I’m working on won’t last a full season. And I’m stuck in a year-long lease in an apartment I might not be able to afford if I can’t keep working at Cartoon Network.”

"You work where?" She looked puzzled. “What show?”

He figured it had been brought up several times in outings whether he liked it or not but he explained it anyway. “The Breakfast Monkey. The little Scandinavian fucker with food powers. Masked Luchador fighter that only speaks Spanish. Occasionally the weird ass fish and Crazy Boy show up.”

“You work on that?” Lindsey again asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he answered thinking that would be good enough.

“Like an animator or a coloring person?” she tried to clarify.

“Storyboard,” Gerard started. “And uh... ‘Oh no! The city has been turned into cheeseburgers!’”

Nothing would have prepared Lindsey for that. She burst into a fit of laughter hearing him do the voice, especially hearing it done so well. “Fuck! That’s amazing!”

“I bet there are parents who hate me and they don’t even know I’m a real person,” he sighed heavily.

“So...” she said with a grin. “What was his name again?”

It had been a few minutes since they were talking about his ex and it wasn’t until she said something about it that Gerard realized they weren’t talking about him. He smiled. She was better company and better conversation than his brother who his old friends. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“If I ever have a girl, I’m naming her after you,” Gerard joked.

“Because that’s the world needs,” she said with an eye roll. “Little Lindsey Way and a bucket of paint to color the walls with.”

“It’s not that bad of an idea,” he smarted back.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine what your child would be like,” she sighed.

“Awesome, my kid would be awesome. You’d be lucky to have my child named after you,” he snapped playfully.

“Whatever, Way,” Lindsey couldn’t hide the eye roll or the snark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently snowed and iced in and can't leave my house let alone my neighborhood. So these things are being written quickly and edited fast in an attempt to keep my sanity. Chapters are also shorter than I like, but they're getting done.


	11. It's a strange way of saying, I'm supposed to love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "G.I.N.A.S.F.S." by Fall Out Boy

Patrick woke up in a bed that wasn’t his, in an apartment on the other side of town from his dormitory, and all alone with no company. It had been a little less than a week since the incident at the bar and he hadn’t been anywhere between his dorm and Justin’s apartment since then. And even then, he went to the dorm once to grab a bag and then had stayed with his boyfriend since.

The worst part about having blackout curtains was how the whole day could easily slip away. It was well after noon when he woke up and an hour or so after that when he finally decided to get up. After a little investigating and some horror movie worthy moments of calling out Justin’s name into the silence, Patrick figured he was alone. Justin had to work. At least that’s what Patrick had concluded.

He searched around the fridge for something that wasn’t alcoholic until he came across frozen waffles and decided that they would make an excellent dinner. No butter or syrup, but plain would work out just fine. And that’s how Justin found his boyfriend picking up crumbs off of a plate, watching a Law and Order marathon, in his pajamas.

“Hey babe,” the older man announced his presence as he made his way into his home. “What are you up to?”

“Catching up,” the teen blindly answered. He was too engrossed in the show to give a crap. “Missed most of this season.”

“So uh, I was thinking,” Justin kept talking as he walked about the living room. The teenager still wasn’t looking up from his show. “You know how you have that bag of clothes with you?”

“Yeah-huh,” Patrick answered again, still giving the TV all of his attention.

“What if I took you out to eat or something and we could stop by the dorm so you could get more stuff, or even different stuff?” Justin offered.

“Yeah,” Patrick answered with a nod, continuing to stare at the TV. “We can do that tomorrow.”

“What about tonight?” Justin offered again and that was enough to get Patrick to turn around on the couch.

“Isn’t it a bit late?” The teen argued. “There’s not a lot open right now.”

“There’s that sandwich place by my work,” the older man suggested.

Patrick’s brain went to the last times he ate at that place. The night he came out to Gerard. Their last date together. The night he got dumped. “I think I’m good,” he tried to redirect the conversation elsewhere.

“C’mon ‘Tricky, my treat,” Justin tried again. “We can do the dollar menu at McDonald’s for all I care.”

“Okay,” Patrick agreed. At this point he just wanted to agree to something to get Justin off of his ass. “We can do that.”

“Great!” The older man exclaimed and walked out of the living room to change his clothes. “Be sure to grab your bag though.”

In the back of Patrick’s teenage mind, he knew there had to be a reason that Justin was so adamant about that damn bag. He shrugged it off to smelling bad and needing cleaner clothes and his boyfriend was trying to be nice and not just come out and blatantly tell him that he stunk. At least that’s what he convinced himself in his mind as he took a quick shower before getting dressed to leave.

It’d be okay, he kept reminding himself again and again in his head. Patrick was fully convinced that Justin wasn’t going to hurt him. He couldn’t, right? After all of this, Justin couldn’t dump him too. Right?

It kept replaying and replaying in his mind from the apartment to Justin’s car to the parking lot to the fast food counter. It wasn’t until his boyfriend asked him if e wanted a milkshake that it was all put on pause. “Huh?”

“Do you want one?” Justin repeated himself. “My treat.”

“Yeah,” Patrick replied, snapping himself out of his confusion. “Sure.”

“Flavor?” The older man added.

“Uh,” Patrick paused before turning back to the cashier. “Chocolate, please?”

The rest of the date went along like that. Patrick being too engrossed into his own thoughts to realize Justin was talking to him. Justin repeating himself several times because Patrick wouldn’t pay attention long enough to realize what was going on. Hell, when the left the restaurant and we’re back in the car, Patrick almost jumped because he didn’t remember the whole process of leaving.

“You okay, ‘Tricky?” Justin asked once they were back on the road.

“Yeah,” the teen lied. “Just unfocused. I’m thinking about a lot at once.”

“Want to talk about it?” His boyfriend offered.

“Not really,” Patrick trailed off. If they didn’t talk, he couldn’t be dumped. He had it all worked out in his brain. It was a soundproof plan.

“Well, then I’ll just talk and you can jump in whenever,” Justin told the teen. “Our album got picked up. We’re looking at a mini tour around Milwaukee and then possibly Warped. It’s not a done deal yet - but hey! - just imagine, Warped Tour!”

“That’d be amazing,” Patrick chuckled a bit. Maybe this was all in his head. There was no way he was getting dumped if this is what they were talking about. Right?

“I was thinking about you coming with us,” the older man said as he turned the car into the parking lot of Patrick’s assigned dormitory. “I’m just not sure where we stand as a couple and I don’t want you to be stranded a hundred miles away from Chicago and a thousand miles from your friends if you decide you don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Why would you say that?” Patrick quickly starting questioning everything that had happened that night. As soon as the car was in park, the teenager started pleading his case. “What am I doing to tell you anything other than how much I want to be with you?”

"Look baby," Justin did not want to have this conversation and it was written all over his face. "This goes beyond any of that 'it's not you, it's me' talk. There's a whole other factor we're leaving out here."

"Are you?" Patrick wanted to ask but his voice was breaking apart. "Are you dumping me?"

"No, no no no..." Justin shook his head while he licked his lips. He must have searched for the words but couldn't find them in the right order to make the situation right. "I'm letting you go."

"No, no!" Patrick started shouting. He pulled his seatbelt off to try and get close to his boyfriend. Surely he could prove that they could make this work. But the older man pushed the smaller hands away. He kept trying to talk more and more about how he was destroying Patrick's life, but the words weren't registering. The boy was practically whimpering, tears rolling down his face he didn't know he was holding back. Patrick grabbed one of Justin's arms with both of his hands, and pleaded, "We don't have to do this! We can work through this!"

"That's the thing, 'Tricky, we can't." He was white knuckling the wheel. "This is more than just the two of us."

Patrick tightened his grip on Justin's arm and the older man put his other hand on top of the boy's two. He couldn't handle this again. He couldn't deal with yet another older man telling him he was too young or that he still had a life to live.

"You love him still."

No.

The words were too much for Patrick and he kept denying it; this was worse than being told he was too young. He thought he was over that man. He thought they were both over him. Justin kept talking over his deafening thoughts. "Baby, you are destroying yourself because you can't be with him. You hurt yourself, you drink too much, you started fucking me after shows, this all because you can't deal with life without him!"

"That's not it! You know that I'm with you," the boy pleaded.

"No baby, no," Justin sighed and shook his head. "You need some time to be you. I can't keep doing this to you."

"Justin, please," there words were barely making their way out between both of Patrick's hands that were on his mouth now. If he couldn't get the right words out, the least he could do was keep the sobs in. The man reached over Patrick and unlocked the door. The boy turned into a sobbing mess when the car door was opened. "Please, don't! Justin, please!"

Justin cupped the boy's face in his hands, "Listen to me. Go get your friends. They can do more to help you right now than I can." When he let go, the teen grabbed at one of his wrists in desperation. "You gotta go, 'Tricky, please." It clearly wasn't working as the boy was then hyperventilating, so Justin left the car.

Patrick was startled to see that he was left alone and proceeded to jump out of his side, slamming the door in the process while he raced to the man on the sidewalk. He ran into the man's arms, who took him by the shoulders to stop him in tracks. "Please, Justin, please..."

"Patrick," Justin made sure the boy was looking at him before speaking, but his own eyes kept darting up to the window in the boy's dorm. Surely they were making enough noise for the boy's friends to notice. They had to be there; they were always there. "I'm so sorry."

"Then don't do it, you don't have to do this," the teen begged, voice cracking. "I can't be alone again."

"You need to be alone, or go back to being with him," the older man offered. He heard a loud noise above his head that reminded him of Joe. His eyes bounced back and forth to Patrick's and the window that was now filled with the teen's friends. They knew something was wrong almost instantly, and the man could hear Joe yell again but this time at Pete and Andy to stay in the window to watch. Joe was on his way. "I don't want to keep hurting you, Patrick. You deserve so much better."

"Justin, please don't..." The boy was still shaking, tears running down his face, lips squishing up. He was not a pretty cryer but this wouldn't be any easier if he was.

"I'm so sorry." The man ran his hands up and down the boy's arms to calm him down. He could do that much until the boy was back with his friends.

Joe ran through the doors to the building and up to the couple. Justin let go of the boy who was immediately caught by his friend in a protective embrace.

"I'm sorry," Justin clamped a hand over his mouth but quickly moved it to grab his hair in a fit of anxiety. "I didn't want to do this, Joe. I really didn't want it didn't want to come to this. But he..."

Patrick had dropped to his knees and Joe knelt down with him.

It was over.

He couldn't stop crying and shaking, but the reality was setting in.

It was over.

Joe just held onto him, letting his friend cry his eyes out.

It was _all_ over.

"He deserves better," Justin continued. "I can't keep letting him hurt himself. He deserves better." The man looked back at his running car and started backing up towards it. In little to no time at all, Patrick’s overnight bag with his clothes was rested on the ground in front of him but still a good distance away so Justin didn’t have to get too close. "I'm so sorry 'Trick. You'll find someone who treats you well."

Patrick watched as Justin turned and went back into the car, then out of the parking lot. That was the final straw that broke him and he came apart on the sidewalk. He wanted to scream for the whole world to hear his pain, but it was muffled by Joe's jacket.

Joe rocked the boy in his arms like a baby. They'd been here before. Probably never this bad, but this kind of pain had happened before. The taller teen managed to get Patrick up on two feet and slowly got him into the building, one step at a time, with the bag slung over his shoulder. He never let go of Patrick's shoulders until they were at the elevator just to press the button. His friend had stopped wailing but he was still shaking like a leaf. Once in the elevator, he backed the two of them into a corner so he could rub his hand in large circles on the boy's back. "I've got you. You'll be okay."

"Why does this keep happening to me?" Patrick whimpered against his friend's chest.

"You fall in love too easily." Joe tightened his grip on his friend. The elevator doors had closed and started moving them up to their dorm and the older teen was counting down the seconds until he could Patrick home safe and sound. "You get attached and then they leave and they take a part of you with them. And you react like this every time your heart breaks and that part goes away. Every time."

"You think I should be alone?" he recalled Justin's words from earlier.

"Single, maybe. Alone, no. That's why I'm here," Joe said calmly.

The doors opened with a ping and Joe maneuvered them into the hall. Pete was standing halfway in and out of the doorway, so all he had to do was push past the heavily tattooed guy to get into the dorm. Andy was sitting on the couch watching it all go down.

"Give us a minute," Joe announced as he pushed Patrick further into the dorm and eventually into his friend's room. They both sat on the bed, and the smaller teen rested his head on Joe's shoulder. The bag was tossed on the floor somewhere between the door and the bed, but that was the least of their concerns. Patrick was still silently sniffling his tears away, but at least he wasn't bawling anymore. His face was still red and puffy. His eyes were still stinging. His voice was hoarse. Inside, he felt like he was dying.

"How fucked up am I?" Patrick asked to break the silence in the room.

"You're not fucked up, you're just heartbroken," Joe said rubbing his friend's back.

"Why do I keep doing this to myself?" He pulled himself up just enough to shrug his jacket on the floor.

"Because you're a hopeless romantic." Joe got up from his seat and went to Patrick's closet to grab cleaner clothes.

"I thought I was done being a girl," the boy sighed.

"Having emotions doesn't make you a girl. Admitting to having them makes you more of a man than half of the people we know," Joe added while in Patrick's closet. He came back and started pulling on the other teen's shirt. "Shirt off, plus you're not sleeping while binding."

"You don't have to," Patrick tried to reason with him while taking his own shirt off.

"It's not like I haven't seen you naked," Joe mentioned. It wasn't a joke or said to be funny. They never brought up _that_ night. They vowed that they never would. This wasn't the first time Joe had to fix a broken Patrick.

"We don't talk about that," the boy said back.

"So let's talk about you then," Joe changed the subject. "What do you need to get through the night? Because chicken and champagne didn't work last time."

Patrick smiled for a moment while he was getting undressed and redressed. His pajamas shouldn't feel like home, but it was the warmest thing he had felt in a long time, and it made him feel a hell of a lot better. "I need to sleep. And I need my friends. I promise I'll listen this time."

"You'll try," Joe told him. "I'm not expecting perfection, just to see an effort being made."

Patrick nodded and laid down on top of his blankets. Who knew crying could be so exhausting?

He was starting to drift off when he felt a hand trying to move him. "Roll over, I'm not letting you sleep alone."

They had done this before. Platonic cuddling. Just whenever they knew that they needed someone to help get them through the night, they were there for each other. Patrick didn't argue, he had done enough of it that day, so he rolled over onto his side and let Joe throw an arm over his middle.

"You're one of my best friends ever," Joe reminded him. "It hurts me to see you like this. But we'll get through it."

"Thanks. You're the best friend a guy like me could hope for," Patrick choked up before finally letting the fatigue take him over into a deep sleep.

~~~~~

The two of them woke up to Pete banging on the door. Given the night was long, but they didn't think that they had slept for even an hour before they were so rudely woken up. "Hey guys, you doing alright?"

Joe and Patrick both rolled over and tried to sit up. Almost like clockwork, Joe passed the shorter teen a pillow to cover up his chest. It's not like the guys hadn't seen it before, but it made Patrick feel better.

"Been better, honestly," Patrick admitted in a hoarse voice.

"I bet," Pete said as he took a seat on the floor. He had left the door open which gave Andy the opportunity to come in. They were both still wearing the clothes they had came in with last night, so obviously they hadn't left. Joe moved enough for Patrick to move over to the end of the bed and they all sat there in the room like it was therapy. Or a funeral.

"And here we are again," Patrick said solemnly, knowing that the group had been there before when he was dumped last time.

"Is there gonna be snacks this time?" Pete tried to joke but received a slap to his shoulder from Andy. "Sorry man."

"I should have seen it coming this time," Patrick sighed.

"See, I think this was a blindside," Pete tried to explain. "I didn't see any signs or anything. It came out nowhere."

"I know," the boy sighed. "Picture it from my end."

"Sorry man," the other man apologized when he realized what he had said.

"It's whatever," Patrick sighed. It hurt. Lot. A few hours of sleep hadn't changed much except the puffiness in his face.

"It's not," Andy tried to argue. "It's a loss. An unexpected loss. You're allowed to grieve."

"I will, just not right this moment," the teen sighed. "I think I can deal with it, but I'm just not sure if I can be alone. Like dating wise. I love having someone to spend my time with. I love having something to look forward to. I might just be a hopeless romantic, but I still want someone to wake up to every morning, you know?"

"Why don't I just date you?" Pete teased him. "I'll dump my girl on the spot, man. I can't deal with you being like this."

"No, you wouldn't. Admit it; that 'gay above the waist' thing still doesn't apply to me," Patrick said as he grinned. "But seriously... was this better or worse than the Chris incident?"

"Do you mean better like a bigger meltdown? Then yeah, this was better." Pete crossed his arms. "I've never seen you like that before."

"I think this was like two breakups at once," Patrick admitted a loud and leaned his head back against his bed.

"Yeah, you didn't really do anything like this last time," Andy added his two cents.

"I was mad," Patrick stated precisely. "Now I'm sad. I need to stop being so emotional."

"It's what makes you human," Joe mentioned. "Denying the pain only makes it worse when it gets to be too much to bear. Then when it really starts to hurt, it'll leave scars."

"That should be a song lyric," Patrick said and make the whole group laugh.

"Naw man, that's your thing," Joe laughed back. "Can't take that from you and Pete."

"You know, it doesn't have to be," Pete thought aloud after the group got quiet for a second.

"Oh no," Andy commented on the sudden realization going through Pete's mind. "He's got that look. What are thinking of?"

"Those songs could be ours," Pete said firmly. "Think about it! Joe's got a guitar, I've got a bass, we can make this work!"

"But who's gonna sing, genius? We can't have two drummers and try to make one of them sing while they both play!" Joe snapped back while snapping up on Patrick's bed.

"Patrick can sing," Pete pointed out.

"No, not in front of a crowd," Patrick groaned. Pete had discussed it plenty of times before but never to include their other two friends. That one performance at the open mic night was the only attempt he had ever done and it didn't play out how he wanted it to.

"Yes, yes in front of a crowd," Pete shot back and stood up in the middle of the room to start moving his jitters out. Just the thought of it all coming together was making him jump about the room and he wasn't going to hide it. "You can play while you sing. Keep your hat on to hide your face, get jackets for body armor and keep your guitar as a shield! There is more talent in your left hand than there is my entire body and I am not letting this go!"

"What are we gonna do about school?" Joe interrupted.

"Fuck school! We can always come back - I mean like Andy," Pete paused to look at the other man. "What's this like your third time coming back to college?"

"Something like that," the older man agreed.

"See!" Pete pointed out. "We need to stop letting these things kick us down! We need to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and be the greatest band we can fucking be! We can't just keep falling down and let it define us!"

"So we'll be the 'fall down guys?'" Joe joked when he got a word in edgewise.

"Maybe not that." Pete tried to play with the words in his head. "Falling apart... Fallout Shelter..."

"Like Fall Out Boy from the Simpsons?" Andy offered half assed.

The room went dead silent. Pete was still standing in the middle of it like an ethereal being that had descended upon them from the heavens of rock and roll to instruct them to make a band. "We're going to be Fall Out Boy," he said quietly.

"No," Patrick interjected. "No no no no no."

"Yeah, we're Fall Out Boy," Pete repeated as it was still getting to him. Now Pete was practically jumping off the walls with excitement. "We're Fall Out Boy."

The whole group... no, the whole band was blindly agreeing as the idea. But Pete kept going on and it sounded better. And better. And  _better_.

Pete was ranting on about songs and how'd they sound with drums or guitar and how much better they'd be and how all of his random 'cool ass band names' could be song titles since they already came up with a band name; even if they were long as hell.

Patrick didn't realize he was smiling as the pep speech had gone for far too long until Joe nudged his knee. "See," Joe told him. "This is what you needed. Single. But not alone."

"I'll never be alone," the boy said and smiled. "So long as you all are here with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally caved and now Fall Out Boy is going to be an actual band in the fic. The further along I got, the less and less I could work with the storyline unless they were musicians so I made it work. A lot of the timeline is skewed, but... it's fan fiction. C'mon.


	12. I'm supposed to love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "G.I.N.A.S.F.S." by Fall Out Boy

There was nothing in the world worth getting out of bed for. Patrick kept telling himself that so he couldn’t get into any more trouble than he already had in the last few months... or rather, the last eight months. His whole life had gone downhill in since Christmas of last year, but he thought it would have turned around by now.

There was some noise going on in the living room that distracted him a second; Pete and Andy were over. He knew that at the most since they had been talking about the band thing very seriously and Pete had been dead set on making it happen, but he didn’t know exactly what his friends were doing in the other room. Andy was game for just about anything and Joe would always be his right-hand man, even in the worst of the times.

It had been a few days, not even a week yet, since Pete’s big announcement in Patrick’s bedroom, and in turn, it hadn’t even been a week since Patrick was dumped by Justin. Sure, his friends were amazing, but it still hurt to even think about the outside world from Patrick’s perspective. He hadn’t slept much, just a lot of laying around his room in his binder and day old clothes while he tried to pretend there wasn’t anything he needed to do outside of the dorm. And after the last few hours, it had turned into his bedroom that he didn’t want to leave.

But he’d have to get up and face the music, and face his friends, eventually. Now was as good a time as ever when his stomach started to tell him to stop moping around in bed.

Patrick left his room in time to see Mikey in the living room getting help with his tie from Pete. When they were done, Mikey looked over with sympathetic eyes. "Hey man."

Patrick still looked like hell, and he felt like it. "Hey, you look good. Where are you going?"

"There's this art thing in New York," Mikey started but Pete punched him in the arm. “Ow!”

"Dude, seriously?!" The mutual friend among them snapped.

"Gerard has an art exhibit going on?" Patrick could connect the dots no problem.

"Yeah," Mikey said as he nodded. "Sorry man."

"No, that's great," Patrick murmured. "That's great for him."

"It's him and like three other artists, but still," Mikey tried to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal.

"Can I go?" The teen blurred out. All eyes were on Patrick and he suddenly wasn't so sure about his words anymore. "I mean... would it be awkward if I went?"

"Patrick are you sure? I don't think you can- " Joe was cut off when his friend looked at him, eyes filled too many emotions for Patrick to process himself.

"I think he'd like that," Mikey cut in. "He hasn't been doing alright lately. Especially after he left here. A familiar face should help him out."

"Me too," Patrick admitted. "I can be ready in like ten minutes. Is that okay?"

"Yeah that works," Mikey kind of laughed it off. "I was already going to be early, now I'll just be not as early."

"Thanks, man," Patrick left to go back to his room, quickly ridding himself of his clothes. He was standing in his closet with just his binder and boxer shorts on when the door opened.

While his friend was careful with the door, Joe tailed him as quickly as possible. "Dude, I don't think you should do be doing this."

"You - " Patrick pointed at his friend " - You don't get a say in this. You were no help last time I got to talk to him. I was terrible to him when he was here and I already lost my first chance. I'm not losing it again." He was already putting a white dress shirt on while scavenging through his closet for a pair of pants that weren't jeans. When he found a pair he was happy with, he stepped out of the closet and quickly pulled them on.

"Can you at least promise me something?" Joe pleaded.

"What?" Patrick snapped.

"If something goes wrong, you call me." Joe's hands were shaking as he brought them to his mouth but he powered through it. "You go to a restaurant and you stay there until I can come and get you."

"Joe," the teen paused and looked at his friend. "What if nothing happens? What if something _good_ happens?"

"Then you still call me," his friend pleaded with the beginning of tears in his eyes. "I don't want to lose you like that again."

Patrick buttoned up his pants and walked across the room to close the gap between him and Joe. He took his friend's face with both hands to look him in the eyes, "I'll be okay. I have a feeling about this and I can't let it slip through my fingers."

"Okay." Joe nodded over and over until Patrick let go. He took a deep breath and fixed his face before giving his friend fashion advice, mostly to change the subject before he started getting emotional again. "Go with the black pea coat your mom bought you. And that black and gray tie."

"Oh, okay." The teenager went back into his closet to grab them. Once he was somewhat dressed, Joe had to help with the tie. Much easier to let someone else do it than to try it on yourself.

"And that gray newsboy hat," Joe offered. "Once you get your shoes."

Patrick sprinted around his room to get both things and put them on, figuring he had taken up enough time that Mikey could have left without him. Now fully dressed he stood in the middle of his room, arms out, to present himself, "Good?"

"Yeah man," Joe said and grinned. "Your hair looks like shit, but that's what the hat is for."

"Don't tell me that," he tried to reason but his friend was already pushing him out the door.

"You're fine. Go."

Mikey was sitting on the couch when the two came out of the room; so he clearly didn't take too long. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Patrick sighed. "Do I look alright?"

"You're great," Mikey smiled lightly as he got up. "We got to go soon though."

"Right," the teen agreed and tried to quickly follow Mikey out the dorm. He did, however, stop to knuckle bump Pete and wave at Andy and Joe on his way out.

With the door closed, there was an air of silence in the room. "Are we really letting him do this?" Andy looked at the other two. They knew Patrick longer, so maybe they had a better idea of what to expect.

"He's not a baby." Joe walked over to his phone charger and plugged it in. He didn't want his phone to be dead in case Patrick actually called him, and god knows he wasn't going to go anywhere without it now. "We can't keep him from making his own decisions."

"What do we do if backfires?" Pete groaned in his seat.

"We take care of Patrick," Joe sighed and sat on the couch next to Pete.

"Well, what if it works out? What are we going to do if he ends up dating that asshole again?" Pete asked.

"We take care of Patrick,” Joe repeated.

~~~~~

"This isn't too weird for you is it?" Patrick asked after Mikey had been driving for awhile.

"A little, but," he admitted. "I haven't seen Gee this bad in a while. Actually, ever."

"Bad like, the drinking's getting worse?" the teenager tried to hint at it, but he could never be sure anymore.

"Worse, its more than drinking," Mikey mumbled.

"Oh no," Patrick sighed. He didn't know how much of this he was supposed to know. After all, the two had parted ways for a long time now.

"That's why I think you being there might help," Mikey added. "I don't know what exactly spiraled him out of control, but you were a huge part of his life before it. So who knows?"

"It's worth a shot?" the teen tried to offer.

"I hope so," Mikey sighed.

The car pulled into a parking lot that Patrick didn't recognize. The car was parked before he even questioned it, "What are we doing?"

"The train..." Mikey stared at the teenager like he was crazy. "You didn't think I was driving into New York did you?"

"Kind of," Patrick admitted.

"Yeah no." Mikey shook his head and got out of the vehicle.

"I mean..." Patrick shot out of the car and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him to keep up with Mikey's long ones. "I learned how to drive in a big city."

"I think a neighborhood in Chicago doesn't exactly count as a big city," Mikey laughed. He was already walking up to the station when Patrick started following him. Mikey pressed the button to lock up the car and they both could hear the beeping in the distance.

"But you learning in a town in New Jersey counts?" Patrick was still trotting on behind, slowly.

"It doesn't," Mikey admitted. "That's why I'm not driving."

"Oh," Patrick finally realized what that meant. The guy ahead of him was already paying for their train tickets. "Oh hey, I could pay for mine."

"No you can pay for the taxi and the subway from Penn station," Mikey smarted back and swiped his card.

"I have no cash,” the teenager admitted. “This was all last minute."

Mikey nodded and informed him, "Yeah, it's gonna suck if you need to get back to Jersey."

"I'll find an ATM." Patrick went looking once he had his ticket in hand.

"Yeah, you should."

~~~~~

"So," Patrick groaned. He looked up at the building the event was being held at, almost petrified. It was so massively intimidating, he couldn’t find the courage to take his first few steps off of the street. "How are we doing this?"

"We go up there together but I'll go find my brother. So I need you to take your time so it makes it look like I didn't bring you," Mikey stated like he had rehearsed the whole ordeal in his head.

"Oh, okay." Patrick's stomach was in knots but he reluctantly followed Mikey in. There were plenty of other people there for them to blend in with. They went in together but went into the elevator with a larger group. Everyone was dressed similarly, dark and sleek, so it was obvious they were all there for the same thing but Patrick still felt so out of place. The whole group went to the same floor and made their way off of the elevator like a wave.

The walls in the gallery space were white and open, for easy access for people to move around but more than anything, Patrick could see plenty of artwork already from where he stood. There was a mass of people in between him galley space but between him and the people was a table in the front where guests were encouraged to put a name tag on before going through the exhibit. Mikey had grabbed one and walked off to go see his brother before Patrick had even walked up to the table.

"Hi, name?" There was a dark-haired girl sitting at the table with a clipboard. Must be part of the gallery. Or just as part of the social aspect to all of this environment.

"Uh... Patrick," he stuttered as he was caught off guard.

"Last name?"

"Stump." She wrote his name down on the clipboard and then passed him a name tag.

"You're number thirty-two if you would like to place any bids, please be sure use your number." She smiled as he walked away. He was sure he could get Gerard's attention if he paid for a piece, but that wasn't the point. He had no money to bid with, to begin with, but he put his little name tag on his coat anyway and made his way to blend in with the crowd. So much for early, there were so many people there who arrived the same time as him and Mikey but he was still so clearly out of his element.

The first artist, closest to the entrance, had a bunch of paintings on the wall of birds that were also women. It was hard for Patrick to describe, but the subjects were dancers who were turning into birds. It was mesmerizing to a point, but he couldn't see the appeal. He wasn’t much of a bird person anyway.

He turned the corner to find some artwork that was more his speed and his heart sank.

Patrick could see Gerard in all his glory. The older man’s hair was still long and black but for the most part, was combed out of his face. Predictably, he was wearing all black; blazer, dress shirt, and slacks, minus a bright red tie. The man was talking freely with his brother and Patrick could swear he saw him smile. Even if it was just for a second. The teen started backing out when Gerard turned his head in time. The man blinked a few times before Patrick knew he was trapped. He could clearly see the man ask his brother, "Is that?"

Mikey turned to see what he was looking at, and Patrick could see him tell his brother, "Yeah, man."

Patrick tried to keep going forward through the sea of people and it felt like an out of body experience. It felt like everyone around him was staring, his feet were walking on ice, and his heart was going to fly out of his chest and into one of those bird paintings. He walked right up to Gerard, despite every voice in his head telling him to turn around and run back home. "Hi."

"Hey,” the older man said back.

"I just, uh," he stuttered and looked down at the floor. He looked up in time to stare at Gerard's eyes. The older man had been through so much and it was so evident just by his eyes alone. Patrick couldn’t help but wonder what all he missed with the two of them being apart. "I wanted to show my support."

"I didn't expect you, to be honest," Gerard confessed. "I mean, of course, I want you here, but... well you know."

"I know," Patrick sighed.

"I miss you though," the words were music to Patrick's ears.

"I missed you too,” the teen confessed.

"I'm uh..." Gerard shifted his weight between his feet. "I can talk, just not right now if you want to talk later."

"I'd love to, if you get the chance," Patrick agreed enthusiastically.

Gerard lightly grabbed hold of Patrick's hand. "Thank you." He let go and the teenager watched as he walked away to talk to some other people. It shouldn't have been so hard just to talk to the man but Patrick felt his whole body shake with the breath he let out.

"That wasn't so bad," Mikey said as came up behind him.

"That wasn't even the start of it," Patrick said, voice breaking.

"He wants to talk to you though." The teen saw Mikey take a drink from his cup. Patrick briefly thought about grabbing one for some liquid courage. The best part of these art exhibitions, it was assumed that everyone there was rich so there was free booze, even for the minors.

"That doesn't mean anything though," the teen tried to argue.

"You bring out something good in him," Mikey started. "Just...he'll let you talk. You guys can talk this out. I hope at least."

"Me too," Patrick said as Mikey walked away. “Me too..."

Patrick wandered around the area that was clearly set up for Gerard. Even the pieces he didn't recognize, he could easily tell that they were made by the same person. The first one detailed a woman after a surgical procedure, clearly on a gurney in an operating room. He recognized it from the time they went through the camera. He kept moving from painting to painting, smiling with each one. He missed the man behind them so much he ached just to have a moment with the art because it was a moment closer to the artist. He didn't recognize most of them from their past but they were all so indisputably Gerard's. The crowd parted enough for him to look at the last one of the collection, but he froze in place.

Patrick stood there in awe. He recognized the painting immediately. A while ago, on one of his early dates with Gerard before the two were sexually intimate and the artist wanted to prove that they could still be intimate with one another. On display before him was the sharpie tattoo that he ingeniously suggested to be drawn on his feet; now in acrylic paint and framed on a wall.

"I can't believe..." he couldn't finish his words.

Gerard walked up behind him, not on purpose, but with great timing. He wasn't expecting the man at first, but having him next to him didn't make the moment any less surreal. "I couldn't let it go. Sorry."

"I'm just..." he started to say but he was at a loss for words. "You put it up."

"I needed to get it off of my chest," the older man confessed.

"What did you call it?" Patrick asked, still trying to make out every little waking detail of the painting before him.

Gerard stood still. He wondered briefly if he should lie and tell Patrick some story that didn't really exist or if he should tell him the truth. The truth was actually on a little white plaque next to the painting, so he felt like he couldn't back out of this one. "Demolition Lovers II."

"Where's the first Demolition Lovers?" Patrick asked, eyes still fixated on the painting.

"We were,” Gerard uttered out without much thought at that point. Patrick gulped at the thought, loudly. "Or rather, we are. Just everything we do to ourselves. All the self-destruction."

"Where do we go from here?" Patrick couldn't even turn to face the man next to him.

"Forward, maybe," Gerard offered.

The two made eye contact finally, and Patrick didn't even realize he was on the verge of tears. "Sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't be here."

"No, no no." Gerard leaned over and pushed the tears out of the teenager's eyes before pleading his case, "I missed you. I want you to be here."

"No, I need to leave," Patrick argued and shook his head.

"This thing only has an hour or so left," Gerard reasoned. "Just like when you would come hang out with me until I got out back when I worked at Haunted Grounds. Can you wait until then?"

Patrick nodded because he was unable to find the words. Gerard quietly thanked him and stepped away, eyes on the teen until the last possible moment when he turned his back. The teenager smiled, even as he watched his old love walked away and back into the event, just to keep face.

The reality was setting in.

Patrick didn't belong here.

Gerard left him a while back for this exact reason and the teenager was pushing his limits by trying to get his old love back. This was Gerard's element and Patrick would never be one of these people.

The teen turned to leave as soon as he was sure no eyes were on him. He had made it back to the elevator before anyone had said a word to him. More guests left the elevator, making Patrick the only passenger going down to the bottom floor. “I shouldn't be here," he uttered the words aloud, trying to make his feelings real. He realized he was still wearing the name tag and pulled it off just to rip it up, letting the pieces fall to the elevator floor. "I need to leave."

He managed to keep his tears to himself before the elevator pinged its way to Patrick's emotional rock bottom. He was almost bombarded by other guests trying to get on while he was trying to get out, but everything quickly adjusted so he could leave and avoid another anxiety attack. He was already on the sidewalk before it hit him that he didn't have a way to get home. He'd have to call Joe.

A quick look to the left and all he could see was corporate type buildings, but the right looked exactly the same, so he continued to the left. A few blocks down and nothing really changed. Patrick didn’t think this plan of running away all the way through; he really didn't want to be stuck in New York City all alone with no way to get home but he especially didn't want to get robbed or anything even though this area was still pretty well populated.

"Um, hi," he said as he walked up to a person who was standing at a bus stop. The 90's grunge style was reeking off of this individual, so Patrick severely hoped that they could understand him language-wise. "I'm not from around here, and I'm looking for a place to get food."

They pulled out an earbud from behind their long black hair, presumably from their ear but Patrick couldn't see. "Like dinner food or grocery food?"

"Dinner, preferably," he admitted.

"Are you okay?" the person asked him. There was enough inflection in their voice that Patrick could guess that they were female, which from his point of view didn't mean much anyways.

"Honestly, I've had a night of really poor and brash decisions that I would like to drink away from my memory."

"Well..." They pulled the other earbud out and wrapped it around their iPod before dropping it into their boho bag. "I'll buy you a meal if you want to tell me your story."

"I don't think I can-" he started.

"Cheaper than therapy."

"Sure," he agreed to it. He started to follow them towards wherever it was they were taking him. Could be an alley where he would meet his untimely demise but it was better than where he was already was. "I'm not ruining your night am I?"

"Hell no," they admitted. "I was about to go home to spend a Saturday night in this great city all alone in my bedroom while my girlfriend was studying for finals and my friends bailed on me for their own crap. You're actually making my night."

"Great," he chuckled. "We can just be alone together. My name's Patrick."

"Some of my friends' call me LB," they said and turned their head to smile at him. "You can call me that for now."

~~~~~

It was a tiny hole in the wall just another block down in the same direction Patrick had already been walking. It was a little Chinese place that reminded him of a place back home that he and the Chicago Crew would hang out in for hours. And now he was doing the same with this LB woman.

"So you came here from New Jersey just on the slight chance that you could talk to him?" Patrick nodded to answer her. "But didn't you talk to him?"

"I did," the teen said as he pushed around the food in his little styrofoam clam. "But he was right the first time. I'm a baby and he has so much going on in his life that it all would just drag me down. I'd drag him down. If it all goes bad, he'd drag me down. A lot of downs and not a lot of good reasons for me to be here."

"But he wanted to talk to you," she pointed out as she grabbed the salt packets from the little black dish in the center of the table. "And you just ran out. That's not good closure."

"I don't really think I needed closure. I think I just made it worse," he huffed into his shrimp dish.

"You should go back, try to talk to him," she said, not even looking up from her food.

"So I can be dumped in the middle of a crowded room?" he chuckled. "No thanks, the first time was good enough. He was right the first time; I won't fit into his world."

"You never know though," she said before she took a bite of food with her chopsticks. "He could be hurting just as much as you are."

"His brother said something about him getting worse," Patrick grumbled. “That’s why I came to this stupid art show in New York.”

"Wait - his brother? You talked to his brother before you came here? To an art show?” She repeated all of the points Patrick had made to make herself catch up with the situation. All the wheels were spinning in her brain as she put two and two together. This wasn't some random kid she found on the street.

This was Patrick.

Like _Patrick_ Patrick.

"He kind of brought me here. I didn't know where this was or that it was even happening until like three hours ago" he sighed loudly into his food.

"I think if his brother brought you to see him than he's definitely hurting a lot worse than you think." Her sentence was punctuated with a point of the chopsticks in his direction.

"It might be over by now," he thought aloud.

"He's probably still there, closing up." She started closing up the foam clams, especially Patricks. "I bet we can get him in time."

"Wait what are we doing?" Patrick asked in shock as his food was being taken from him.

"We're going to go get your man back," she said and quickly got up from the table and urged Patrick to follow her.

He sat there flustered for a quick moment before he realized he didn't have many other options. He hadn't called Joe yet because he was so distracted by this LB woman wanting to know what happened to him and now she was walking away with his food. The food she had paid for - but still - his food! She also might have been right about the whole issue with Gerard, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He snapped and followed her out the door, "Fine!"

LB already had both of their to go boxes in a plastic bag she pulled from her bigger fabric one and was trudging along before Patrick caught up. "So what's his name?"

"Gerard," he said it like it was a secret.

She grinned because she knew the secret already. “What's he look like?"

"Not much taller than me, long black hair," he said in between pants. He needed to get out more often, the physical activity of speed walking to keep up with her was killing him.

"So like me but a dude?" She had a point.

"Kind of," he admitted. "Just with a really thin nose."

"Something wrong with my face?" She stopped so abruptly that he nearly ran into her.

"What? No, I'm just, well gay remember?"

"Chill dude, I'm messing with you," she joked and started to walk again.

"I'm just... so worried like I already ran out," he sighed and ran to keep up with her. He was getting a year's worth of cardio done in one night with these stupid people and their stupid long legs. "What if he won't talk to me again?"

"You ask a lot of ‘what if’ questions for someone who barely knows me," LB admitted. "So this one, right?"

He was back at square one standing in front of the corporate building. There were lots of people leaving it and walking directly onto the street, leaving him the opportunity to walk in alone.

"Umm yeah." He turned to LB and told her, "I don't know what to say."

"Thanks?" she offered.

"What do you get out of this?" He honestly wondered. What was the point of her helping him and paying for his food?

"Memories. It's like I get to vacation in someone else's life for a minute," she smiled as she said it aloud. "So thanks."

"Thanks for the memories?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yours weren't as great as some of the others I've heard," she said with a shrug. "But here, take your food. Maybe you can tell him you got something to eat to make it look like you didn't run off in fear."

"Thanks." He took the plastic bag, not really sure if he should take the free food or not. "If this works, how do I get to repay you?"

"I get the story." She pulled her wallet out and handed him a card from a hidden pocket.

He looked at it long enough to see her logo and a website listed, but it wasn’t the catchphrase, job title or logo that stood out to him. "Love Bandit? You run a blog about love in the real world."

"Yep!" she laughed. "And I'll write about you and your lovesick travels to the find your ex-lover in the Big Apple."

"You make me sound like a Sex in the City character," Patrick groaned at the thought. His sister might be happy to hear that one day; not today though, he was too busy for getting her all excited over nothing.

"Well, send me a message if it works out," she informed him and started to walk away. "I won't post your episode unless you get a happy ending. Bye, Patrick!"

"Bye, LB," he said and waved her away. She quickly walked out of sight and back into the night.

Patrick resorted to some deep timed breathing to calm himself well enough until he got the courage to go back into the building. He didn't get that far; Gerard was making his way out the main door, Mikey trailing closely behind, and the old couple almost ran into each other. "Oh my god, Patrick!" The man looked shocked.

"Hi," he managed to muster while he tried to gather up his confidence. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left."

"No, no no no." Gerard shook his head. "Don't apologize. You're here."

"But I should have stayed," the teen tried to reason before he remembered his lie. “But then I needed food and then I needed to come back and -“

"Patrick," there was so much need in the man's voice that the teen looked deep into his eyes, seeing how tired and exhausted he fully was for the first time. "You're here."

"Yeah..." he started to say with a small smile starting up on his lips.

"You two need me to leave?" Mikey asked, interrupting the reunion.

"Yeah maybe," his brother tried to reason with him. "For now at least."

"It's okay, Mikey," Patrick informed the taller Way. "I can find my way home if I need to tonight, okay?"

"Alright," and just that fast, Mikey Way was heading off to the corner to pick up a cab. The two stood there in long agonizing silence watching him walk away before one of them finally said something.

That was fast. Patrick must have both thoughts it and said it because Gerard blindly agreed with him. “Do you wanna go somewhere to talk?" the older man offered. “I know you got food, but we can still go sit somewhere."

"Do you know a place?" Patrick didn't want to wander around like he did earlier. He also didn't want to be outed for leaving with his tail between his legs, either.

"There's a cafe down the street," Gerard offered and pointed in its direction. "Not 'down the street,' down the street but like three blocks down if you want to sit for awhile."

"A cafe sounds great right now," Patrick nodded.

"It's like a twenty-four-hour place with mostly coffee, some food," Gerard started ranting. "I mean, you have food, but in case you want something else. It's mostly people trying to sober up this time of night and -"

"Gerard," Patrick said to get the older man's attention. "It's fine."

"Oh," Gerard turned to face Patrick was so lost in thought, he almost didn't catch the teenager talking to him. "You want to go the cafe?"

"Sure, sounds perfect" Patrick agreed and let the older man lead the way. The walk was almost in total silence past all of the awkward small talk about how the other one was feeling. They both said that they were fine, but it was clear they were both lying just to keep face, even if neither of them could really help it.

The cafe was mostly empty with the exception of two guys who sat in the dark corners of the shop with their laptops open. The couple would get their chance to talk in peace.

"You want anything?" Gerard took his wallet out.

Patrick just agreed so he could say something, "Sure."

"Is your old order okay?" Patrick couldn't help but wonder what the older man remembered; if it was his favorite drink or not. When the teenager nodded, Gerard walked over to the counter to place their orders, leaving Patrick to find a table. 

He settled on a booth next to a window. He put his bag of food between him and the wall and took a seat. Realizing the opportunity with Gerard ordering drinks, Patrick took a chance to call Joe. "Hey."

"You doing okay?" He could hear the concern in his friend's voice.

"Yeah, I ran into him at the event and we're meeting up in a public place to talk," Patrick nodded as he spoke as if Joe could see him.

"Is anyone else there?" his friend asked. "Like Mikey, is Mikey still there?"

"No, he went home," Patrick told him.

"Are you sure you want to do this, man?"

He didn't know how to answer, but the word vomit came out regardless. "I don't want to destroy another a chance, Joe. I've destroyed a lot of things in my life. Maybe with this, I can put the pieces back together."

"Do you need me to get you?" Joe asked frantically. "I can go now and be there soon if you want me to cut the meeting short."

"No, I'm fine for right now." Patrick noticed that Gerard was picking up their drinks from the barista so he hurried the conversation up. "I don't think I'm coming home, but... I'll check in tomorrow."

"If you don't wake up dead?" Joe asked, with a large amount of disdain coaxing his words. Joe didn't like Gerard and he wasn't sugar coating it for Patrick's sake then and there. 

"Yeah," the teen bit his bottom lip with his answer. He didn't give a shit if his friend like his ex or not. This was his second chance and he was taking it. Patrick looked up and could see Gerard was making his way towards the booth. "I got to go, Joe."

"Call me when you need to come home. And, man?"

"Yeah?" Patrick asked back.

"Good luck."

"Thanks." Patrick hung up the phone right when a coffee cup was put in front him.

"Who was that?" the man asked as he took a seat in front of the teen.

"Joe," Patrick answered and put his phone back in his pocket.

"Do you need to go?" The older man was nervously moving his coffee cup back and forth in his hand.

"No, not yet. We can still talk."

"Okay," Gerard sighed loudly.

The silence rang in between them like church bells in a ghost town. The two of them both studied each other like they were waiting for the other one to speak first. "I really did like your paintings at the show," Patrick finally broke the silence with some honest truth. "Some of them were really deep."

"Yeah, I've been... going through some things," Gerard admitted, probably lying about everything else that had been going on. "Really good fuel for inspiration, though."

"That's a silver lining." Patrick took a drink of his coffee. Mocha. His ex really did remember.

"I got to see you, that's the real silver lining," the man told him.

"Mikey told me about how you've been lately." The teenager ignored the comment, mostly because he didn't want to break down in front of Gerard.

"I'm sorry," the older man said as he pushed his unruly hair out of his face. "He wasn't supposed to tell all of that."

"He didn't really tell me everything," the teen shook his head. "But I could tell it was bad."

"I need to clean up." Gerard took a long sip from his cup to distract himself a moment.

"How bad was it, really?" Patrick worried about the man. He still loved him so much. It was hard not to. Then again, Patrick wouldn't have gone through all of this if he didn't.

"Is. I haven't stopped," he let out a long sigh that broke towards the end. He hadn't opened up in a long time. "At first it was an escape from my life, like every bad thing that happened to me. And then it was to escape all of my bad decisions. Then it became another bad decision. And then another. And another. From what I did when I was out to who I brought home."

"What about rehab?" Patrick asked.

“Haven’t tried.”

“Could you?”

"I don't think I can." Gerard shook his head and looked down at his hands on his coffee cup. "I'd detox just to start fresh. I don't have a support system. My friends here encourage it. I've got a friend here who flat out sells drugs on the side. Mikey doesn't know about everything. My parents barely know I do anything outside of work - hell they think I'm doing good right now."

"What if you had one?" The teenager leaned closer with his elbows sliding across the table. "What if you had a support network? What would you do then? Would you go?"

"I think I could," the man said, voice breaking.

"What would you do if you cleaned up?" Patrick asked again.

"I could do better at work. I could not feel like shit all the time." His grip was tightening on the cup as he spoke. "Maybe, I could get another chance with you."

"I'd actually like that," Patrick admitted and leaned back into his seat. "If you could get clean, I'd be there when you got out."

"You don't need to waste your life on an addict." Gerard looked up at Patrick from his shaking hands. "You're still too young to be doing this shit."

"Let me worry about that." The teen reached across the table to put his hand over one of the man's. For the first time that night, he felt like he got to see Gerard again. _His_ Gerard.

"What about Justin?" The older man pulled his hands closer towards himself and pulled them out from under the one that was starting to envelop his own.

"What about Justin?" Patrick repeated the question, obviously with a different tone. "He dumped me. He said I couldn't get over you. I mean... He was right though. I can't get let you go."

"I don't know why you care so much. I was an asshole to you," the man confessed. "I left you when I still desperately wanted to be with you."

"Why did you leave me then?" The teen pleaded for answers. He still wanted to know. He hopelessly begged to know why. After all of these months, he'd be damned if he didn't get the real answer.

"You still had so much to live for," Gerard protested. "I didn't want to hold you back. Either I was going to fail you or I was going to drag you down. You still had so many opportunities ahead of you that you wouldn't have had if I was still there."

"But it was still my decision," Patrick's voice raised as he kept on talking. "I could have seen you on weekends. We could have called every night. You could have set up video chats. But you took that away. You took those opportunities away!"

The teen realized how loud he was getting when the people in the cafe looked over at him. He quietly apologized to everyone there before going back to their conversation.

"I don't know what to do," Gerard said as bit his lips from the inside. "I want to go back to the way things were."

"I do too," Patrick whispered. "Do you want to try again?"

The man only nodded in response. He blinked a few times, fighting back a few tears.

"Will you go to rehab?"

"Yes," the man gasped out like he was holding his breath. "If you're there when I get out."

"Are you just going to do it for me or can you do it for yourself?" Patrick was worried for a moment. A lot of times addicts would say whatever they felt like that other person needed to hear to get their way. Was Gerard doing the same right then, or would he do it for himself?

Gerard's eyes were getting red. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. If I got better for you, it would just be another thing you did so I could change for the better."

"Do you think you can do it?" Patrick said firmly.

"Yeah, maybe, but I haven't really tried yet," the older man admitted.

"If you were clean, we could have a future," the teenager told him.

Gerard reached across the table and Patrick allowed his hands be taken in. "I don't care what it takes, I'll do it."

"I still love you," the teen sighed as he looked into his ex's face. The man smiled at him through the redness in his eyes. "We can get you clean. We can do this. We can do this together."

"Really?" Gerard squeaked out.

"Yeah... I want things to go back to the way they were too," Patrick nodded furiously as he spoke. "It'll be rough, but we can do this."

"We can do this," the man agreed.

"Can we go?" the teen asked, heart in hand. "I miss waking up to seeing you in the morning."

"Yeah." The older man pulled his hands back to clear his face of any lose tears. "We can go."

They both got up from their seats, cups in hand, and walked out of the cafe. They were both finished with their drinks by the time they made it to the subway station. Patrick still didn't have any more cash on him so Gerard had to buy him a ticket while the man used his own personal pass for his own entry. The station was mostly empty that time of night, even for a Saturday.

"What's in the bag?" Gerard asked when the two sat side by side in the subway car.

"When I left the gallery, I found a woman who was willing to buy me Chinese food if I told her a story," Patrick sighed and leaned onto the older man. He had his Gerard back so he didn't need to lie. "I guess my story of why I was in New York. I was so freaked out from leaving, I didn't eat any of my food. So she gave it to me as a thank you."

"You'd be surprised the number of people who love hearing that kind of stuff." Gerard reached down and grabbed the teen's hand. "I knew a girl awhile back - more like I barely knew her through people but she knew Jimmy and Jenn - but I knew a girl who made a career out of telling other people's stories. Made a blog out of it. She was such an amazing artist, too. Kills me to see her writing as a profession when I've seen her work in painting."

"The woman I met runs a blog." Patrick pulled away long enough to grab his wallet where he had stashed the card. "Maybe we'll see our story on there."

"Wait -" Gerard took the card from Patrick. There was no way. "Love Bandit? That's the same woman."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," he gasped and handed the card back. "I think she's dating Jenn now. Black hair? Dark makeup? Sharp nose?"

"That's LB," Patrick realized it in amazement.

"Her name's Lindsey," the man nodded. "I don't know who came up with Love Bandit, but that's just her initials. She... she's the reason I went back on my birthday."

"This whole damn city and we end up meeting the same damn people?" the teenager mused over while he put the card back in his wallet.

"Pretty much," Gerard agreed.

~~~~~

They managed to catch the very last train back to Hoboken, barely caught the train, and then spent the train ride cuddled up to one another. Barely a word between the two of them but Patrick was so elated to have his Gerard back. His brain wouldn't shut off with an internal monologue of how this could possibly be a bad idea. He knew it, but he wanted to have the Gerard he fell in love with back, and he had an opportunity to get that man back in his life, even if it meant staying by his side until he sobered up.

When the ride was almost over, Patrick finally said something, "I can't believe you were still in New Jersey."

"I'm... I'm sorry," the man whispered.

"It's understandable... you wouldn't have met up with me even if I was just down the street."

"Patrick..." Gerard took the teenager's hand inside of his own and brought it up to his lips. "I was a poison that was destroying my own life. I didn't want to take you down with me."

"But you're not anymore," the teen argued. "You're gonna have to get used to me being around you all the time now."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Gerard said with a smile but he still didn't let go of Patrick's hand.

"It's going to be hard to get clean, you know that right?" Patrick kept his voice low, just in case anyone was listening in. It wasn't that crowded, but there were still people close by.

"I know, I'll let you go through the apartment." He couldn't remember what all was in there but he remembered stashing things from the last time Jimmy came over.

"Are you on anything right now?"

"Yeah..." He was still slightly spacey but he was answering honestly.

"When did you take it?"

"Before the show," the older man confessed. "Like way before the show. It wasn't that much though."

"So you're coming down from it?" Patrick asked.

"Yeah," Gerard admitted but paused while running his tongue between his lips while he thought about the question. "Like I'm way down from it. Like the bad part of coming down."

"Will you be okay?" The man nodded. "Is there stuff in your apartment? Like pills?"

"Yeah," he admitted again but this time he looked at his shoes. He didn't want to face the teen or the truth as far as the drugs were concerned.

"I'm going to watch you," Patrick said and Gerard looked up at him. "You're not taking anything else tonight or I'm leaving. Do you understand?"

The man nodded, lips pursed together but he blurted out, "I understand."

Patrick pulled Gerard closer with his hand that wasn't being held and pressed his lips against the man's. "You're gonna get through tonight, I promise."

~~~~~

Gerard still drove the same car, and the passenger seat still fit Patrick like it did on their first date. The man was clearly sober from whatever he was on earlier because he drove them back to his apartment like it was nothing. He, however, kept apologizing about the place from the parking lot to the elevator to the door at his apartment. "Sorry, I don't know how it looks in here right now."

"Stop apologizing, remember, I live with Joe," Patrick laughed when the older man opened the door. The living room had a dark colored couch and a decent sized television set. There were a few signs of this being a home like a basket full of DVDs and VHS tapes and the art books on the coffee table, but it was so few and far between the set of furniture that building obviously provided.

"I know, but," Gerard repeated himself. "I never know how bad this place is, to be honest."

"Well... where can I put this?" Patrick motioned to what he was talking about by raising the plastic bag in his hand.

"Oh yeah, um...kitchen." Gerard led the way through a doorway. He dropped his blazer on the couch on his way out the door. The kitchen was much brighter but still was filled with the same style of furniture that had to have come with the place.

Gerard opened up the door to the full sized fridge, and Patrick attempted to put his food away. On his way out of the fridge, Patrick made note of the bottles of beer he could see in the door and the drinks on the top shelf. "How serious are you about you getting clean?"

"Get rid of it." Gerard didn't even need to see what Patrick was looking at.

"No stopping me?" The teenager looked up but all he was answered with was the man shaking his head. Patrick took the opportunity to grab three bottles and bring them to the sink. He struggled with the tops for a minute before the man brought him a bottle opener to make it a lot easier, but the rest of the work was all Patrick. Very quickly, all of the bottles were emptied into the sink and then the drinks from the top shelf were popped open and drained as well. "What else is there?"

"There's... a mixer thing, it's not alcoholic but..." Gerard pointed at the cabinet. Patrick went over to it, struggling to reach it because of his height for a second. He found more than just a mixer and found a plastic jug of vodka and a tequila bottle that was in the shape of a skull. Both were mostly empty but were taken down with the mixer to be dumped as well. A little bit of searching but he found a trash can to dump everything in once they were empty.

Patrick was on a mission. "What else?"

"That's it."

"Pills? Anything you can snort or inject?" He turned to the man when he asked. He might not have not how the drugs worked, but he was dead set on a mission to clean this place and he wasn't even taking Gerard's mental wellbeing into consideration.

"I don't..." Gerard was obviously tense and needed a second to collect himself. "Bathroom."

"Okay," Patrick said as he walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room, still ignoring the fact that Gerard was so obviously freaking out over the ordeal. The teenager looked around a bit, assuming that one of the only two doors that were closed were to a bathroom while the other one was a bedroom. The first one ended up being a coat closet, so he was wrong. The second one was to a bedroom, larger than the one Patrick remembered sleeping in when his ex-boyfriend roomed with Ray but it was so obviously Gerard's room with the dark linen and the art supplies sitting in the corners.

"Here," the older man pushed by to get to the bathroom attached to the room. The bathroom had a tub, which slightly surprised Patrick that there was enough space for one, that was mostly clean minus the litter of shower gel and shampoo bottles. There was a shelf above the toilet that carried a multitude of pill containers among other typical things he'd have in a restroom. Gerard pulled three prescription bottles off of the shelf, and told what they were as they were placed on the sink counter, "This is an antidepressant, this for my allergies, and this is for upset stomachs."

"Everything else?"

"Free to go."

"Are you hiding anything?"

"In the... toilet paper rolls. Under the sink."

Patrick started there, he found a sandwich bag with two smaller baggies that held an unknown white powder in them. Gerard took to sitting on the edge of the tub while he watched the teen flush the substances down the drain. He twitched a bit as the whole ordeal went down from emptying each of the baggies to each individual pill bottle. The biggest thought going through the back of his mind was how much money he had spent on them that he wasn't going to get back.

"Do you need to go sit somewhere else?" The teen took note of how Gerard was reacting.

"No, if this is happening I need to see it." The older man shuddered as rubbed his palms back and forth over one another to keep himself from getting too agitated.

"Do you want to do it?" Patrick pulled the last container of pills from the top shelf. Painkillers. Could be deadly if someone were to take enough of them at once.

"Sure." Gerard took the pill bottle from the teenager and opened it. He watched, mesmerized by the little blue pills as they went into the water and then further down as Patrick flushed the toilet to send them out of their lives.

The eerie silence between the man breathing heavily and the lights humming was too much for the teen to deal with for a moment. "Are you okay?"

Gerard nodded, eyes still fixated on the toilet where he had just willingly flushed all of his pills.

"Are you mad?"

The man shook his head as he bit his lips from the inside like he commonly did when he was nervous.

"Can you say something?" the teenager begged. "You're scaring me."

"It's a big step," Gerard finally blurted out. "I just need a minute to adjust."

"You want to go lay down or something?"

"Please."He nodded again but made his way out of the bathroom with Patrick leading him out by the hand regardless. The teen was taking off his shoes when Gerard face planted the bed.

Patrick shrugged off his coat and put it on the dresser just to free up space from the floor. He took a seat next to Gerard and played with the older man's hair, in a very paternal manner. "You did so good. I'm surprised you let me do all that. I'm super proud of you, Gerard."

"Well, I had to prove it to you." The man turned his head towards the hand that was moving his messy black hair out of his eyes. "Prove that I was serious about making us work. About being a better boyfriend."

He said those words a long time ago, back when Patrick came out to him and Gerard was hell-bent on being a good boyfriend. He was still trying.

"So you let me take everything?" Patrick asked in disbelief.

"Yeah."

"And you didn't even fight for it?"

"I have you," Gerard confessed. "I don't need to fight for it anymore."

Patrick shuddered. He thought about all of the things that were going wrong here. How Gerard was so willing to throw everything away just so he could be with Patrick for the time being. What was his deal? Was Patrick just a new drug for him? A new thing for him to be addicted to? Perhaps an old one even?

"Talk to me; what's going through your head?" Patrick asked, trying to get his answers. He laid his head down so they were both laying on the bed, bodies stretched out in different directions but their eyes were glued to one another. Maybe if they talked it out, Patrick could get an idea of what was going on.

"I'm worried," Gerard admitted.

"About what?"

"I'm worried you might leave in the morning," the older man whispered despite how they were the only two in the room. "Then I have to go back and get all of those things again because I can't live without them."

"That's not going to happen," the teenager promised. "I'll be here. At some point, I'll have to go back to the dorms to get my stuff and whatever, but as long as you'll let me, I'll be here. I will be here for you."

"Then rehab," Gerard shuddered. "What if it doesn't work?"

"Then we try something else," the teen told him. "I miss you, and right now, you're not you. We're going to get that version of you back."

"What about us?" Gerard muttered.

Patrick didn't have a quick answer for that one. He had to think about it. "Why are you worried about us?"

"I hurt you. I don't want to hurt you again."

"Then don't. You don't have to do something you don't want to."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because..." Another question that Patrick couldn't answer very quickly. "Because Justin was right. I never stopped loving you."

Gerard reached out, bringing his hand to touch Patrick's face, gently as if the small teenager would break under his fingers. He pulled the teen into a kiss that was cut short by the bill of the newsboy hat digging into his head. He went to take it off but made sure to get permission first. "Please let me ditch the stupid hat?"

Patrick laughed but he pulled the hat off of himself before pitching it off of the bed. "You're opening up."

"I'm sobering up." Gerard sat up on the bed and then moved his way across the comforter to lay across the two pillows he had by the headboard. Patrick followed suit and eventually ended up in his lover's arms, just silently cuddling against one another.

"I missed you so much," Patrick said while laying his head on the man's chest.

"I missed you too," he repeated and patted the teenager's head for a little bit. It almost seemed unreal after how things had played out the last few months, but he surely had Patrick back in his arms in that moment. "I don't think I ever stopped loving you, either."

Patrick took a little comfort in that sentence. It meant that, more than anything, he wasn't just on the bad end of an unrequited love affair. They were in this together and he didn't want to let go of what he had worked so hard for. They had a lot to do a long way to go, but it wasn't going to be too much to handle if Gerard loved him back. 

But then, as they all do, the good moment between them had to end.

"What is that on your wall?" Patrick asked, breaking their moment. 

Gerard turned his head to look at what the teen was talking about. The paddle was still on the wall, hanging from the thumbtack as if Gerard was going to need his little helper sometime soon. "I-I can explain."

"What else have you been doing?" Patrick asked with laughter in his tone.

"You got to promise you won't get mad," the older man pleaded. He just got his Patrick back; he didn't want to lose him over his bad choices in past bedroom partners.

"Baby." The teen sat up, waiting for the story to begin. "You know I was sleeping with Justin, right? We were apart, Gerard. I understand you were with other people. I can't expect you to have been celibate."

"Okay," Gerard accepted it but he braced himself for the worst. It was a strange predicament to have been in, but the least he could do now was, to be honest about it. He sat up and spoke the whole phrase very slowly so would be no misinterpretation. "I was in a very weird relationship with a barely legal teenager that was basically just kinky sex. Not even friend with benefits."

"You had a fuck buddy that was eighteen that liked to get spanked? That's not that damaging," Patrick laughed it off as he wasn't getting the full picture.

"No, it was more than that," the older man started to further explain. "He wanted me to call him my 'baby boy' and I was his 'daddy' and he liked getting spanked as punishment and he dressed in like, novelty underwear that made him look like a child, and the paddle was my 'little helper' for when he wouldn't behave." Gerard looked over at Patrick who just sat there with his jaw open. "I am so sorry."

"That's fucking hilarious," the teenager burst into a fit of laughter that knocked him over onto his back.

Gerard was confused for a split second, but he immediately started to question how Patrick was so laid back about the whole affair."Why are you taking this so lightly? I had weird taboo sex with a guy who was practically a child!"

"And you got off on him telling you that you were his daddy?"

"No!" Gerard lied.

"Sure!"

"Not exactly," he started telling the full truth. "I liked being in control of the whole situation. I was super coked up and saw a hot piece of ass that was willing to put up with me, so I put up with his weird shit."

"Well," Patrick had to catch himself to keep from laughing further. "I had sex with Justin Pierre, so I win the game of sex losers."

"It can't be worse," the man said and shook his head but Patrick just beamed.

"I have asthma too," the teen started. "But I have never had an asthma attack while having sex and prematurely ejaculated before my partner even got started."

"Oh my god," Gerard broke into his own little fit of laughter. "I can never look at that man the same again."

"Exactly!" Patrick was so proud of himself.

"If we're playing this game," the man started playing along. "I was with a guy for a few months who had a piss kink."

"You're kidding?!" Gerard shook his head to Patrick's question and the teen was legitimately shocked.

"He liked seeing me do it, he liked doing it on me, and I was so fucked up all the time I didn't even care." All that was another good reason not to do drugs. Don't do drugs kids.

"Oh my god, you take that to the grave with you when you die, Gerard Way, I swear to God," Patrick told him but was too stunned to move.

"So I win," the older man said with a grin so large it reached his eyes.

"No, not even," the teenager playfully fought back and shook his head.

Gerard was confused for a second; with an ex like that, how could he not have won their little game?

"Because I dated a guy..." Patrick started to say but he scooted closer where his knees were pushed up against Gerard's side. "Who fucked a dude with a watersport fetish and not one, but two, barely legal teenagers. And one of those teenagers was a fucked up transsexual who can't get their life together."

Gerard smirked but hid it when he hid his head from the teen's view. He looked up, eyes only, to see Patrick smiling right back at him. He'd count that last one as a win, anytime.

"So I win," the teenager sassed back.

"Just like last time," Gerard couldn't contain himself.

Patrick grinned right back into his heart like he had been there the whole time. The teenager leaned in for a kiss that was welcomed with a tight embrace. Gerard kept the momentum going with soft kiss after kiss on the teenager's lips, sliding his hands up Patrick's sides until he got them under the teen's arms.

"I don't," Gerard said as he pulled away. "I don't want to make you do this if you don't want to."

"I want to." Patrick climbed onto Gerard's lap, a knee on either side of the man's hips, and placed a hand on his shoulder and the other gripping the red tie. "I want you."

The couple went back at each other, devouring the other's mouth like it was their only source of air. When they pulled away, Gerard loosened Patrick's tie and pulled it off of him. He flung it away from them but it never left the bed. He opened up the buttons one by one, tantalizingly slow while placing little kisses on the teen's neck and made his way down as the shirt opened up. Patrick was still binding so there was a point when the older man ran out of skin to place kisses on.

Patrick pulled his own shirt off and tossed it out of the way. "You need to take yours off, too. Or I can do it."

"Go for it," Gerard said with a grin as he loosened up his own tie. The teenager did the rest of the work by pulling it off in an overly flamboyant display and tied it the headboard instead of flinging it over with the puddle of clothes they were starting on the floor. The older man's shirt was next to go and Patrick made sure to take his time with each button just to give Gerard the same treatment he had earlier. Remembering how sensitive the other man was the last time they had kissed, Patrick took a very great opportunity with running his nails down Gerard's chest. He got a somewhat positive reaction, in the form of a throaty groan, from the first time he did it, so he did it again a few times for good measure.

"You gotta stop." Gerard grabbed the teenager's biceps and squeezed tightly when the nails were scratched down his chest again. "You're turning me on."

"I thought that was the point," Patrick said with a smirk.

"It's too soon, you're going too fast." Gerard rubbed his hands up and down the teen's arms. "I want to make this last."

"Okay," Patrick agreed even though this sudden change in momentum had taken him for a loop. "What do you want?"

"I want you." He was mirroring the teenager's words but they sounded so different on his lips. Like, it was sweeter in a way.

"What do you want to me do?" Patrick seductively asked.

"Anything you'll give me," Gerard whispered lightly. He wrapped his arms tightly around Patrick's middle and fell back into the bed with the teenager falling on top of him. Working with the change, the teen started grinding against him, initially causing them both to moan until Patrick closed the gap between mouths once more. Gerard pulled away before they could get too into it to ask, "I want to fuck you. Can I do that?"

"Oh god, please." Patrick sat up and started working on his pants. For a moment he wondered why Gerard had felt the need to ask, but he didn't bring anything to top the older man even if he wanted to. But hopefully, the older man at least had some of the basics for them to work with. "Do you have...like?" He couldn't finish the sentence for some reason. It was as if he was too scared to ask if they could play it safe, but he missed the older man so much, he would have done it bare.

"Yeah, I got you." Gerard rolled the best he could to the side without pushing the teenager off of his hips. He pulled at the drawer in his nightstand and looked inside long enough to realize he was looking in the wrong one. "Oh shit. Give me a second." Patrick got up so Gerard could roll over to the other side of the bed to check the drawers from that table, but he took it as an opportunity to pull the little hooks out of his binder and pull it over his head. He was working on his belt and his fly when Gerard looked up empty-handed. "Oh my god."

"What, what's wrong?" Patrick had his dress slacks past his hips when he noticed Gerard looking at him in a daze.

"God, I missed you," he repeated. The older man sat up and took Patrick in his arms. "Can I... I don't want to freak you out."

"You want to eat me out?" Patrick put two and two together. The older man looked up, face full of desire, and nodded. "You had such a thing for that. I never really understood it."

"I feel like...I-I'll drown in you," Gerard said breathlessly. The fire behind the older man's eyes was going to burn Patrick if he got to close, but just the words alone were turning the teen on, warming him up like an oven, and he was willing to get burned just for the chance to get a taste. "I almost ache for it. I can do it while I prep you. But only if... if you want to."

"I'd like that," Patrick groaned. He leaned back, letting Gerard place kisses down from the middle of his chest down to his belly button. "Dear god, please, hurry though... I want you so bad."

The older man shimmied Patrick's pants and boxers off of his legs and tossed them carelessly onto the floor. Gerard was already licking his lips, contemplating how to start when he just indulged in tasting the teen again with lazy laps at his outer lips. Patrick's thighs shook and the older man grabbed them to keep them still. His touch got softer as he rubbed his thumbs in circles and sucked gently on the teenager's cock. He could fit the entirety of Patrick's member easily in his mouth, and he knew nothing got that teen to arch off of a mattress faster than sucking on it so harshly that his own cheeks would hollow out. But Gerard couldn't do it for long though; it would have made the teenager cum too quickly and he didn't want that to happen yet. So he kissed every layer of the teen's front entrance before shooting his tongue into the hole itself. He started slow, building momentum as Patrick started a wanton chant of moaning.

Patrick sat up to watch Gerard work. Watching his tongue lap at the folds. Watching kiss the hooded dick. Watching him tongue fuck the willing body beneath him. Patrick couldn't stop making a squeaking noise while in this new position - because hell - seeing what was happening to him was only making his situation worse. "Don't stop. Don't stop, baby."

The older man stopped almost as soon as he got started. "Sorry, I've got get you ready."

"Perfect timing?" Patrick asked, eyes rolling into the back of his head as Gerard reached over into his side table for the lube bottle.

The older man pushed his hair out of his face and laughed, "Couldn't have been better." He popped up the top and drizzled the lube on the two of his fingers. Most of what was squeezed out ended up sliding up against the teen's hole, but some of the lube had been used on the first finger that was carefully slid into Patrick. Once the teenager's head was thrown back, Gerard went back to sucking on the teen's cock while fingering Patrick's asshole. When he seemed nicely loosened up, the older man added another finger.

And then some lube.

And another finger.

And then some more lube.

"Oh god, please..." Patrick was sliding on top of the blanket on the bed, practically melting into the mattress. "I need you...please stop!"

"Why? I want you to finish," Gerard mumbled into Patrick's thigh.

"But I want to finish with you," the teenager groaned into the blanket.

"We can do that," Gerard said as he pulled up, reaching over to the nightstand cabinet again. It was a bit of a stretch, but after a few tries, he grabbed a condom and came back into position.

"Can we move?" Patrick asked, also leaning forward towards a new position.

Gerard looked at him like he grew a second head for a moment before the other man realized what the teen was asking. Just on the bed, not around the room or to another room. "Oh yeah," he told the teen. "You find a comfortable spot."

And with that, the older man hopped off the bed and let Patrick move into a different position. Gerard's own pants and boxers were shrugged off quickly and he ripped the condom wrapper with his teeth to quickly get it on his cock. He had waited awhile for his Patrick to come back, he wasn't going to make the younger man wait any longer because of this stupid plastic wrap. Patrick's new spot involved him having his back on the pillows so he watched his old lover climb back into the bed and then on top of him. "Hi," the teen whispered and slid his arms around Gerard's neck.

"Hi," he replied with a quick peck on the teenager’s lips before checking down to his own cock. It needed to be lubed up before they got started, so he quickly pulled away to grab the bottle. That cheap synthetic smell of the strawberry lube hit his senses as he used it to grease his shaft with every stroke; it would be such an amazing feeling to never have to smell that trashy second rate lube he had used on his old fuck buddy ever again. With his cock a little more slicked up, he pitched the bottle over the side of the bed, lined himself up with Patrick's hole and slowly pressed in. "Tell me if it hurts."

"Unh...keep going." Patrick craned his neck a bit to watch what was going on beneath him. When he couldn't feel it getting any worse he urged Gerard on, "You're good."

It had been a long while since Patrick's was fucked like this. Gerard went slow but it was still a low burning sensation that made the teen wince, and when the older man noticed he almost stopped entirely. "Oh shit, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Patrick told the other man and threw his head back; he didn't want to watch anymore. "Keep going."

And inch by inch, Gerard kept going, this time so sure he was going to hurt the teen. He was so sure he was going to split Patrick in half when he heard a loud moan erupt from the teen's lips. "Good?"

"Y-yeah," Patrick whimpered.

"You can be loud, I know how you like that," he purred against Patrick's neck. Gerard rolled his hips up against the teenager's backside, trying to find a pace for them to go to. "If I have to listen to my neighbors, they can listen to you for once."

"Oh, God... keep talking..." Patrick bit his bottom lip, trying not to be too loud, despite what he was just told he could do. He missed Gerard being ridiculously loud, and he figured he could get the older man to be loud again by bucking against the thrusts. "Oh... Gerard."

"Oh sugar," he said the magic word back. The older man took one of his hands off of Patrick's hip and cradled the smaller face in his palm. "What can I do? What do you want me to do?"

"Don't stop," Patrick wrapped his legs around the bigger man's middle, hooking his ankles together. The burn was beginning to go away and all the teen could feel was wave after wave of pleasure with each thrust. He started saying it again and again, "Don't stop. Baby, don't stop."

Gerard slowed his pace greatly so he could envelop Patrick with his body. "You getting close?"

Patrick nodded and licked his lips. He was moaning so much it was making his mouth dry. "Please..." his moans as turned into whimpers, and those whimpers became high pitched. His own grip was tightening up so violently, he was sure he was leaving claw marks down Gerard's back. The older man stuck little kisses on the teen's neck, bringing it up to the teen's ear. The second he felt a tongue graze his earlobe, Patrick's moans came back in full force. He bolted his eyes closed on instinct, feeling his release coming near. He started to ache for it to take over him, so one of his hands left Gerard's back and scrolled down his stomach to play with his own throbbing cock. It was ending too soon, but he wanted it so badly, he didn't care if it was going to be short-lived. Patrick was panting heavily between the moans as he started to feel it take over.

He was cumming.

Hard.

Hard enough to make him scream out, “Ah! Ah-AH, fuck!”

Between the leg that unhooked off of the older man’s back and Patrick’s hand retreating from his cock, Gerard figured out what was going on. It was always such a beautiful sight for him, especially when the teen was as flushed out as he was then, but he still felt the need to ask. “Are you...?”

Patrick nodded furiously, eyes still bolted shut as his hollering came to a shortstop. He still ordered, even though his words were short and slurred together when his vocal chords came back to him, “Keep going. Don’t stop. I’ll go again.”

Gerard took this an opportunity to show off. His hand shot down to stroke Patrick’s cock at the same pace his hips were thrusting at and that made the teen moan louder, hold him tighter, and shake more than ever. Patrick tried to get his legs back around Gerard’s hips with his ankles hooked but it was too soon after his last orgasm for that much flexibility, but he kept trying.

It took both of them just a moment to come together this time. Patrick was first, once again; eyes still bolted shut with passion, hands gripping tightly onto the man who was pounding into him as he continued to shout out. A few thrusts later and Gerard followed; bucking uncontrollably while he aggressively took the teenager's mouth on his own to keep both of them from screaming. His hips were shaking for the most part, but when they were starting to still, he carefully pulled out and rolled over onto his side when he was finally able to catch his breath. He looked over at Patrick, who still had his eyes closed and was breathing heavily. The first thought that came to mind was that he broke Patrick. "Are you okay?"

The teen nodded, with his eyes still closed, while licking his lips to keep them from being dry, not helping his throat in the slightest. "I'll be alright."

Gerard sat up, or the best he could at first, and looked over Patrick's shaking body. It must have been just as good for him because the teen was still laying on his back, legs still jerky like he was still coming. Patrick's breaths started to slow down, but he was still shaking with every one of them. Clenching his eyes shut for the last few minutes didn't pay off and now he was more disoriented than typically after sex. His first thought was whether or not he brought his inhaler, just in case, but he ultimately figured out he wasn't having an asthma attack. He tried sitting up and was failing miserably like his whole body didn't want work together.

"Patrick, are you sure you're okay?" The teenager put his hand up to signify that he was alright as he took forever to get up from the bed at a painstakingly slow pace. He didn't even want to look at the other man right now; he wanted to do this on his own and if he looked at Gerard, it was all over.

"I-i-i got it..." he said once he was at least sitting up. His legs were somewhat cooperating. He managed to push himself up long enough stand up on his own before realizing that he didn't know where he was going. "Where's.... where's your bathroom, again?"

"Over here, baby, please let me help you," he begged. Gerard was trying to reach out to him but the teen kept walking.

"Nono, no, I got this," he said as he stumbled into the bathroom. Patrick tried looking for a washcloth of some kind but was having trouble with his wobbly knees and shaky hands; hell, lack of glasses didn't help much either. He found one on the shelf, which he could only guess was there because Gerard was too cool to have a medicine cabinet like the rest of mankind, and ran it under the sink that took a little too long for him to get started. He rung it out, realizing then how oversensitive he was to everything given how he thought he could feel each little fiber in the palm of his hand.

It took a lot of balancing with the help of the sink counter, but he started cleaning himself. First his face. Then his thighs. Then everywhere he could feel lube still lingering on his skin. And in places where it was doing more than lingering. When he cleaned between his cheeks, he found himself gasping. It shouldn't have hurt. It might have stung a little, but it wasn't supposed to have hurt like that. He didn't really want to look but he needed to check that he wasn't bleeding.

"Baby?" Gerard was waiting patiently at the doorframe since Patrick left the door wide open. "Please let me help you."

He looked long enough to realize he wasn't bleeding and folded up the cloth to cover all the undesired residue. "I need to do this. I-i-i can't... I can't explain it. Just let me do this part on my own."

"Okay," Gerard didn't second guess a word the teenager said. He simply got out of the way long enough for Patrick to sit back on the bed. Patrick was trying to find some means to covering himself and was trying to reach for the bathrobe he could see on the hamper. Meanwhile, the man went into his closet and grabbed some clothes to wear.

"H-how are you walking?!” The teen was flabbergasted, to say the least. He had no idea how the man was capable of moving around so freely when he was still so overly sensitive to his surroundings.

"Well, I didn't have my brains fucked out for one," Gerard said as he slipped on a pair of pajama pants. "And two, you admitted you hadn't eaten anything yet. Blood sugar."

"Seriously?!" This conversation again? Patrick was still breathing hard, not nearly as bad as he was five minutes ago, but enough that he had to gasp every now and again. There was no way they were having this discussion again.

"Yeah," Gerard grumbled a bit. The man walked over with a shirt and an extra pair of pants in hand. "Now I don't get why you're being so stubborn, but let me get you dressed."

"I'm not being," he couldn't finish his sentence without Gerard shooting him a motherly glare. "I'm not being _that_ stubborn. I just don't want to be dependent on someone again."

"Legs," the man ordered and Patrick struggled to comply. Gerard carefully got one pant leg up to the teenager's knee before going to the other one. "Getting help isn't the same as being dependent."

"I don't think I know the difference anymore." Patrick crossed his arms over his chest, just to cover himself up.

"What happened when I left?" The words were slow and drawn out, like a secret he could only tell once.

"I fell apart..." The teen's eyes were drawn to the floor, away from Gerard. "I thought you knew. Mikey was there for most of it."

"Mikey never told me anything," the man lied and pushed the rest of the pants up, with some assistance from Patrick lifting up enough to get the waistband over his ass. "Well, I knew about the drinking and Justin, but that was it. All I knew what happened to you was what I saw when I got there."

"I-I..." he started to say something but he was too lightheaded all the sudden to make a coherent thought. Fucking blood sugar. "I think I need something to eat."

"Okay, um, shirt first and then we can get you into the kitchen." Patrick winced a bit when he stretched his arms up to get the shirt on him. He did take note of how careful Gerard was with his chest, still so considerate and kind after this whole time. Patrick did try to make it to the kitchen on his own without any help from the man, but with help instead from the dresser and the door frames and the walls and the kitchen chair and table.

Once in the chair, he flinched as he sat on something that wasn't fluffy or soft like the mattress before. He saw the look on the man's face and replied to him with, "I'm not bleeding. It's just sore. It's been awhile."

"Okay," Gerard let out a sigh of relief. He quickly got a soda can out from the fridge, opened it and passed it to the teenager. "Let's get some sugar in you before you pass out. I'm gonna make you a sandwich though."

"No mustard," the teenager grumbled as he took a drink from the can.

"No you're getting peanut butter and jelly for the protein and carbs," he said walking around his kitchen. "No objections."

"Is it grape jelly?" Patrick asked into the can.

"I also have strawberry." Gerard was smiling, like really smiling, and it was the first time the teen had seen it that night.

"Strawberry please." The teen put the can down, thinking it was too heavy for him to hold up any longer. He really was exhausted from this night, both physically and mentally.

"You don't have to tell me everything," the man said while working at the kitchen counter. The teen looked at him from his shoulder but Gerard's back was to him. "I'm just worried, like... how much I hurt you."

"It was more like I hurt myself," Patrick sighed as he put his head on the table. Even his head felt too heavy to carry. "You were right about that painting. I'm like a demolition man."

“What does make us? Just like the painting?" Gerard finished fixing the sandwich and brought it over to the table on a ceramic plate. Gerard pondered aloud, "Demolition lovers?"

"Maybe we can just pick up the pieces first." When the teenager brought his head up, he thought about the cheap plastic ones he had back at home; this man had really upgraded his life. Patrick pulled the plate closer to him so he could start feeding himself.

He was slowly eating it when Gerard sat down and asked him again, "What happened...when I left?"

Patrick swallowed the bite before talking, "I felt like I wasn't good enough for anyone. So I started hurting myself. Not like with razors, but I started drinking, heavily. It started off as the same thing almost every night; champagne and fried chicken. It was so weird at first but I found a lot of comfort in it. Pete wouldn't get me booze after awhile so I sunk myself to a new low and let Justin take me out. Not a low because it was Justin, but just to date someone solely for the drinks. He was so desperate for my attention he was constantly keeping me drunk just to keep me happy."

"Why were you drinking?" This was like talking to a parent, almost. Almost.

"It made me happy," Patrick looked down at his plate. "I liked how I felt. At first, it was just comforting but then I really liked how I needed help all the time. I just liked how Justin was there... taking care of me."

"Your friends didn't even help you?"

"No," the teen said with a shaky breath and shook his head. "They tried. But I snapped. I'm surprised I didn't lose them. Like everything else."

"What do you mean?" Gerard leaned to the side just to try to see the teen's face as he was hiding away.

"I lost..." Patrick's voice cracked and then he started crying with it. His tears were slow at first, just a few fell from his cheek before he lost control and started shaking with each tear that streaked his face. "I lost my scholarship. I stopped going to class; I just stopped caring... it was all about forgetting my problems."

Gerard reached over and covered the teenager's hand with his own. "Patrick I'm sorry. I would never have left if I knew this was going to happen."

"I destroyed my life all on my own." Patrick pulled his hands back to wipe away his tears. "It had nothing to do with you when it first started. I was hell bent... hell bent on living my life to its fullest. And then I fucked myself up and I wanted you again and you were there."

Suddenly, Patrick felt himself being pulled towards Gerard and their foreheads banged into each other. They both seemed to react with an "ow" before laughing at one another. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"You were right though; we're self-destructive."

"Picture us together," Gerard laughed as he pulled away.

"It's sad how I want to so bad..." Patrick grabbed hold of the man's hands to hold them in his own.

"Then why don't we? Why don't you stay here, with me?" Gerard offered.

The teen was smiling until he saw how serious Gerard was and his whole face dropped. "Seriously?"

"Seriously! Look at this place!" Patrick didn't know how to react. "There's enough room for both of us, comfortably!"

"You can't mean that." The teenager pulled away.

"We have both essentially wasted our lives because of the other person," Gerard told the teen with a smile like he was super nervous, a look that only he could pull off and not look like a creep. "Why don't we just spend the next part of it together?"

"I have felt so alone these last few months," Patrick sighed. "It's hard to believe it's just been months."

"It has only been months." Patrick was right. Gerard left right before Thanksgiving and it was mid-June at the moment. "But you're right. Even with all of these people in my life, I have never felt more alone than I have this past year."

"My parents will kill me," Patrick groaned in frustration before hiding his head in his hands.

"They'd be mad if you dropped out because of your scholarship regardless," Gerard had a point.

"You're right," the teen admitted. "But I don't know what I'm gonna do right now if I dropped out."

"If you drop out of school now, you can always go back later in life," the man told him. "And even if it's just a simple job like a bagger at a grocery store, you can still find something to do here. Or not! I can work enough to pay for the two of us."

"You don't... What about my college debt?" Patrick asked in a series of questions.

"We'll pay it off eventually."

"My parents?"

"I'll get to know them one day."

"My transition, like my meds?"

"We have plenty of pharmacies around here. A lot of doctors. You won't need to stop anything."

"What about the costs?"

"I'll take care of it, even if we're not living comfortably, we'll have each other."

"Gerard..."

"Patrick, I already lost you once, I don't want to do it again," Gerard said as he took the teen's hands. "So please, if you want to stay here, I will make it work."

"We'll make it work, together." Patrick smiled to keep from crying again. He had _his_ Gerard back. "You're gonna get clean and I'll be here the whole time. And we'll make it work, even if we're all alone..."

"Well...You said it yourself," he smiled back at the teenager. "We've been so alone for these last few months, why would we do that again?"

"So that settles it," the teen shrugged.

"Yeah?!" Gerard's heart was leaping out of his chest. "You want to do this?"

"Let's do this," Patrick said it as the grin on his face continued getting bigger and bigger. "Let's be alone together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> G.I.N.A.S.F.S. is my favorite song by Fall Out period, so I hope you guys appreciate it as much as I do now that this installment is over. I'm still working a lot of the storyline out for the next one, so there may be a huge delay in between this installment and the next, which will be called Alone Together.  
> If you guys like it enough to recommend it, please tell me on Tumblr. I'm @the-other-frank and I'm never away from my phone.


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